I Can't Let You Love Me
by Persona Non Grata
Summary: Severus Snape is heading for a mistake he can't afford.
1. Default Chapter

"I Can't Let You Love Me" by Persona Non Grata

Chapter One: "You can take off points for anything you like"

  
  


He was a fool. There was no use denying it. How many times, after all, had he had his hopes and aspirations of a different kind of life crushed? Honestly, you'd think by now he would have learned. But, no, Severus Snape thought he was bigger than his destiny. He dared think love might be within his grasp. He actually began to hope that he might build a life where he was, what? Content.

But he was a bloody idiot. How many times did he need to be slammed over the head with others' mistrust and hatred before he finally got it through his thick skull that he wasn't meant to be happy? Being nasty seemed to be one of his God-given talents for a reason. It was, after all, the only way the people in his world cared to accept him. Nasty, bitter Severus Snape. They wouldn't let him be different... they wouldn't let him be happy.

  
  


At first he regarded her as a mere annoyance. Yet another in an endless parade of faculty hired by Dumbledore. Yet another who would probably last only a year or so. After all, she did seem a bit thick. He had clearly set the tone for their relationship as colleagues upon their first meeting.

She had walked up to him the staff room prior to the first faculty meeting of the year on August 31. She thrust her hand out in the frank friendly manner that was so... American. He knew he didn't like her before she even spoke. When she did he was surprised to hear what was still recognizable as a British accent. It had been diluted, to be sure, but it was definitely British. Her manner, however, was not. She smiled broadly and introduced herself.

"Hello, I'm Phoebe Taylor the new professor of Ancient Languages & Runes."

Snape merely looked at her, neither speaking nor reaching out to take her hand. Apparently untroubled by this she continued, "And you are?"

"Snape. Severus Snape." Severus snapped, still not taking her outstretched hand.

"Ah, yes, you're the Potions Master aren't you?"

"Yes," Severus said shortly.

"Well, I've heard quite a bit about your talent," She said, reaching forward to TAKE his hand and shake it firmly. Bloody, hell, couldn't this woman read body language? Respect boundaries?

"It's a pleasure to meet you Professor Snape," She said, flashing another toothy smile before releasing his hand and turning to move away.

Severus stood stiffly for several moments, looking at his hand. 

When he finally tore his gaze away from the offended appendage he noticed Dumbledore regarding him thoughtfully.

"Is there something amiss with your hand, Severus?" he asked.

Severus' eyes flicked involuntarily across the room to Professor Taylor and back again before he said, irritably, "No."

Dumbledore was not looking at him thoughtfully, his eyes straying toward Taylor and back to Snape. He was clearly intrigued, but said nothing more.

When Dumbledore formally introduced Phoebe Taylor to the faculty he noted that she had returned from several years study of Viking runes found in America and Canada. 

Well, Severus thought, That accounts for the speech and behavior problems. Hopefully she'll re-adjust soon.

  
  


Taylor, however, didn't particularly seem to want to re-adjust. Snape had been horrified to learn her office was in the dungeon near his. He discovered this when she "popped in to say hello" late the next morning. As if that weren't enough, that evening at the Start of Term Banquet she happily plopped down next to Severus. She proceeded to chat happily and ignore his dark looks and his lack of response. If Severus didn't know better, he would swear she was doing it on purpose.

It was with some satisfaction, therefore, that he watched her stumble into the staff room the next morning just before classes. She was pale and squinty-eyed and looked very grumpy. She made straight for the coffee pot without so much as a good morning to anyone. When the bell rang she glared at the clock accusingly and left... blessedly, without a word to anyone. Severus knew the signs of ill-temper better than anyone and Taylor was clearly very ill-tempered in the morning. 

At least she has one redeeming quality, he thought, before setting off for his own classroom. When he descended to the dungeons she was standing, arms crossed, in the hall outside her own classroom silently watching the students file in. When they, and Severus' own students had all entered their classrooms she looked darkly at Snape and muttered something.

"Pardon?" Snape asked trying to keep satisfaction from his voice.

"I was just wondering aloud if we can take points from their houses for being too cheerful in the morning."

Severus felt an odd sensation in his chest. It took him a split second to identify it as the urge to laugh... to laugh. He'd be dammed. He resisted the urge and fixed a scowl on his face, instead. But, just before entering his own room he turned his head and spoke.

"You can take points off for whatever you like."

  
  


At lunchtime Snape heard an odd hissing noise from Taylors office and couldn't resist looking through the open door. Taylor was directing her wand at an odd contraption on her desk which was dribbling a dark liquid into a small cup on one side while larger container on the other hissed and frothed. Taylor saw him looking in and said, simply, "Café Latte."

She then poured the dark liquid from the small cup into a larger one, and waved her wand at the frothing container which quieted immediately. She took that container out from under a small bent pipe and poured it's white contents into the larger cup with the dark liquid.

"Addictive as bloody hell... take my advice, don't get started drinking the stuff."

Snape couldn't help himself, his curiosity was getting the better of him. Was this some popular North American potion?

"What, exactly, is Café Latte? The name implies coffee and milk but those substances are not strongly addictive."

Taylor regarded him over the top of her large coffee cup.

"Café Latte is an Espresso drink... one quarter espresso, three quarters steamed milk with a little foam... and it IS addictive, trust me."

"This is a muggle thing, then?"

"Who better to devise something addictive, eh?"

"Hmmmm" was all Severus said as he walked away to his office

  
  


By supper Taylor had clearly ingested enough caffeine to be back to her irritatingly extroverted self. She, again, sat next to Severus and bombarded him with unwelcome conversation. As he rose and left the table after the meal Severus caught Professor Sprout's voice saying, "Snape is a lost cause dear, he's not really a social person." Unless he was very much mistaken he heard Taylor reply, "That's what makes it so much fun."

It was then Severus decided Taylor might be likable, after all. He also decided that he'd let Neville Longbottom brew him a potion for his personal use before he'd let her know he felt that way.

That was more of a challenge than he expected. Over time it became clear why Dumbledore had assigned Taylor an office and classroom in the dungeon. Although she didn't share his "nasty" disposition, she did share his bone dry sense of humor. He'd catch her smothering a smile at comments he made to students; comments that were normally regarded as merely ill-tempered. She began to congratulate him on particularly clever excuses to remove points from students' houses. When she insisted on ignoring his rather obvious hints that he'd like to be left alone, he began to tolerate her "popping" into his office. His initial suspicion that she was a bit thick was quickly dispelled by her sharp wit and intellect.

She seemed to take particular delight in intellectual challenge. Conversations with her were often the equivalent of a fencing duel. Yes, she was annoying, but he was beginning to mind less and less. 

One early winter morning he looked up to see Phoebe Taylors pale, ill-tempered countenance in his office doorway. When he looked up she spoke without pre-amble.

"Do you think Dumbledore would have something to say if I took five points of Gryffindor for Ginny Weasley's hair colour?"

Snape found himself coughing and clearing his throat. Finally, he said,

"While I certainly understand your desire to do so, I'm afraid the Headmaster would likely NOT approve."

"Humph! Aren't you the one who told me in September that I could take off points for whatever I liked?"

"Within reason, of course."

"Humph. Too bad."

"Indeed."

Taylor clearly enjoyed social interaction far more than Severus. Still, she also had a tendency to spend great stretches of time on her own, and was quite content to do so. After a week and half when she had barely had a moment to herself Severus found her snapping at him and shutting her office door firmly in his face. He had been a bit put off until he'd put two and two together. " So," he thought, "Not 100% extrovert are we? What is your game Taylor?"

  
  


If he had asked Phoebe would have told Snape that there was no game at all... at least nothing beyond the fun she had tormenting him with outgoing, cheerful chatter. Truth be told she'd always had a particular affinity for grouches. She appreciated someone who didn't try to put you on emotionally. She also felt it took more courage to be like Snape than it did to be like her.

She didn't have the guts to risk alienating most people. She didn't have the emotional courage to act as if she wanted everyone to sod off and take the chance they'd do just that. Most of the time she needed other people. Often, however, she needed people to leave her alone. This was the dance she had to do in her life. She was glad that Snape, at least, could be counted on to be there or not. 

He also shared her wicked sense of humor... a humor most people couldn't understand, let alone appreciate. But then most people had experienced relatively normal childhoods and young adulthoods. Phoebe couldn't say that, and she knew that Snape couldn't either. She had become an outgoing "people pleaser" and he a sour tyrant in response to what were doubtless similar circumstances in their personal histories. She knew this without being told. That, she supposed, was why she felt she "understood" Snape in her own way and she was happy to leave him as he was.

Severus, too, began to sense that he and Taylor had a basis for understanding one another but he didn't appreciate the fact that Taylor was content to take him... or rather leave him be... as he was. That is, until a third year Slytherin created a mess worthy of Neville Longbottom. The student had evidently tried to "fix" a potion by improvising on the ingredients. When that didn't work the student had turned his wand on the cauldron... only to melt it. 

Under normal circumstances this would be a problem. However, the fact that the Slytherin had managed to turn the potion corrosive with the tinkering made it into a "situation." The additional fact that several others, particularly Snape, had been splashed by the potion made it into an urgent incident.

The students in class had screamed with surprise when the cauldron melted. The screams increased almost immediately, as those who had been splashed screeched in agony as they watched robes and skin begin to dissolve. Ignoring his own heavily affected arms, Snape had whipped out his wand to neutralize the remaining potion and douse the affected students with a potion that halted the corrosive process on their skin. 

"Hospital Wing!" He bellowed at the whimpering victims of splashing, "Dorado, twenty points from Slytherin and a detention. All of you, out of my sight!"

The students scrambled out of the classroom as quickly as possible as Snape sank down behind his desk and reached with shaking hands for the remaining neutralizing potion to stop the agonizing progress of the corrosive agent on his arms. 

"Let me," a terse voice said as a firm hand grasped the bottle and Phoebe Taylor knelt down next to him with a grim expression on her face.

Severus didn't want her to help with his arms... he didn't want her to see his left forearm and the mark it bore... he didn't want to see the inevitable look of pity or revulsion... he didn't want to answer questions, either.

"No, no..." he said through gritted teeth trying to move his arm away and take the bottle at the same time.

Taylor put a very firm hand on his shoulder and said "Yes. Don't argue with me. Sit still, dammit!"

The pain was awful and Severus wasn't sure he could even hold the bottle anymore so he grimly thrust his arms forward. Taylor quickly doused his arms with the neutralizing potion muttering something about "stubborn martyrs." 

"She'll know it's not martyrdom in a moment," Snape thought grimly. At this thought he was surprised to feel a sharp stab of pain that was not physical. There was no helping it now, however. "Damm Dorado, anyway. He should have taken fifty points; even if he was a Slytherin," he thought.

Severus watched with resignation as Taylor now carefully wiped a cloth soaked in the neutralizer over his arms to make sure she'd hit everything. Any second and she would move to his left arm, move the tattered remnants of robe and see the ugly Dark Mark etched there forever. 

She saw the mark and looked up at him a question in her eyes. Severus was ready for the usual expressions of disgust, mistrust, or pity. Taylor wore none of these. Her expression was... fairly unchanged. There was a question on her face but when he did not react she simply went on with her ministrations. Was it possible she didn't know what the mark meant? No, then why would she have looked up at him upon seeing it? But if she knew... why? Had she merely been looking to him for permission to continue? His thoughts were interrupted by her voice.

"Shall we get you up to Madam Pomfrey, then?"

It took Severus a second to collect his thoughts.

"Ah, no, that won't be necessary. I have another solution that should repair the damage. It ought to be enough ... for me anyway."

He directed her to a red glass bottle in the back of a lower shelf of one of the cabinets. As she daubed the restorative on his arms, Severus was gratified to see healthy skin forming and closing over the ugly mess the corrosion had left behind. It truly had been a gruesome sight. The students had only had minor splashes and he had quickly stopped the corrosive process. Even so they had been disgusted and terrified by the damage. His was far, far worse and yet Taylor hadn't even flinched. He looked at her appraisingly, wondering what this meant.

  
  


He didn't have much time to consider it for Dumbledore was stepping quickly into his office a look of concern on his face.

"Severus, do you need assistance?" He asked at once.

"No, thank you, Headmaster. The situation is under control."

"I am glad to see it. Madam Pomfrey sent word that she had reason to believe you had been quite badly injured."

"The students who led her to believe that exaggerated, I am sure," Severus responded calmly. Taylor snorted.

"Professor Taylor, I take it you disagree?" Dumbledore asked his eyes twinkling slightly.

"If he had waited much longer that stuff would have probably eaten through both his arms." She said, her tone matter of fact.

Dumbledore had moved next to Severus and was looking at his arms. Great swathes of them both were covered with pink, shiny, new skin. The Dark Mark stood out starkly on Severus' bare arms. He almost winced when Dumbledore looked at the mark, but did not.

"Phoebe, you appear to have done an excellent job in assisting Severus." Dumbledore observed.

"I just put on the potions he told me to. I would have been quite useless without his potions and his directions."

"In any case, I am gratified to see that no permanent damage has been done. Severus, I would appreciate it if you would let Poppy take a look at your arms to be sure there is nothing further she can do."

Severus breathed out through his nose but said nothing, simply nodding.

"Thank you, Severus. I shall see you at the noon meal, I trust?"

Again, Severus nodded and Dumbledore left.

"Do you keep an extra set of robes in your office?" Taylor asked as soon as Dumbledore left.

"Pardon?" Severus asked.

"Extra robes... these are a mess. I thought perhaps you'd like to chuck them and put on another set before we walk up to the hospital wing."

"Yes, of course. Back of the door."

Taylor was out of the door and back in mere moments. As she stood behind Severus, to help him get into the extra robes without damaging his new skin, he asked,

"Is there anything about which you would like to question me, Professor Taylor?" He held his breath, fearing what might come next but wanting to get it over with. "Go ahead, ask the inevitable question about the bloody damnable mark," he thought.

"No." she answered sounding confused.

And Severus began to breathe again.

  
  


That had been over a month and what seemed a lifetime ago. At this moment (and for the last three nights, he reckoned) Severus sat chained to the wall of a god-forsaken stone hut. He didn't really know where he was, geographically. In terms of his situation he was in deep, deep trouble. He had been foolish enough to go down to Hogsmeade one evening and had been forcibly taken away by Crabbe Senior and Goyle Senior. There was some question, it seemed, about his continued loyalty to Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Although the story he had fed them when he'd contacted them last June was plausible enough, there were doubts. 

It made sense that he had only been pretending to have left the dark side while biding his time and spying on Dumbledore. Hadn't his abysmal treatment of most students, save the Slytherins, been evidence of his true feelings? Hadn't his persecution of the Potter boy been evidence of that? These, at least, were the things he told them.

In truth, their suspicions were very well founded indeed. His loyalties had truly been with Dumbledore since some time before Voldemort had been overcome by an infant Harry Potter fourteen years earlier. But it was important to Dumbledore's plans that the Death Eaters have reason to believe he was still one of them. Now that he was in their hands, his life depended on that belief.

Months before it would only have been his loyalty to Dumbledore that would have allowed him to care if he continued to survive. Severus realized that he now had another reason he very much wished to make it out of this situation alive. There was someone he wanted to see again. 

But, even if he made it out of this what real reason did he have to hope? Were it even possible that she might share his feelings, what sort of life could they build? Besides, honesty forced Severus to acknowledge that while he might have been foolish enough to allow himself to feel for her; there was no reason she should have been equally foolish as to care for him.

If by some miracle she did, what then? Could he continue to risk his life if he knew she cared for him? Could he not -and risk letting the world fall under Voldemort's reign once more? If he showed her any public affection would he then be giving the Death Eaters just the weapon they wanted? All they would have to do is threaten her life and they would own him. No. It was best to stop toying with the foolish idea that he, Severus Snape, could have such a thing in his life.

He was resolved, then. Somehow it gave him some extra courage, to have decided. To know that he was never destined to feel or return love made him more willing to risk his life and his safety. It also gave him the bitterness and hateful anger needed to convince Lucius Malfoy.

That, and some secret information about Dumbledore. Albus and Severus had long ago anticipated a situation like this and decided on what information Severus might sacrifice in order to convince the followers of Voldemort of his loyalty.

Still, Malfoy felt the need to have Crabbe and Goyle Senior beat Severus to within an inch of his life. For twently endless minutes they pounded and kicked him cracking and snapping bones in the process. When they were through Lucius applied the Cruciatus Curse. White-hot blinding pain sang along his nerves as they cried out in agony. And then it was over. Lucius turned Severus' crumpled form onto his back and Severus spat upon him... more blood than saliva. Malfoy looked down at the spot with distaste but otherwise ignored it. Instead, he bent down and put three drops of liquid in Severus' mouth. Truth serum.

  
  
  
  



	2. Harsh Reality

"I Can't Let You Love Me" 

Chapter Two: Harsh Reality

  
  


Severus had thought the beating and torture a sure sign he had not convinced them and that death was coming. Now he understood that the physical abuse was administered to leave him weak and unable to overcome the serum. They had underestimated him. Unless he missed his guess, Severus thought they had also overestimated the power of their serum. If he hadn't been so weak and in pain Severus could have fought this particular serum with ease. It was much more difficult in his current state, but he managed... thankful that he had been the only Death Eater with true skill in potions brewing. 

Eventually, Crabbe and Goyle Sr. roughly released his bindings and pulled him to his feet. They held him up while Malfoy straightened his robes and waved his wand to clean them up. 

"We're sending you back to that idiot and we expect regular reports. Don't give us reason to doubt you, Snape," Malfoy hissed, "Or you will regret it."

Malfoy stepped back and looked Snape over, nodding. Now Severus understood why Crabbe and Goyle had avoided hitting his face. He needed to appear normal to go back. Of course it might help if the sadists actually tried to heal a few of his bones, including the ones in his left ankle. Still, he wasn't inclined to complain. If he could just get out of here he would worry about that later. After all, it wasn't as if he hadn't a great deal of experience with beating and broken bones. He'd walked around with un-set broken bones more than once in his childhood. 

Malfoy handed him his wand and Severus disapparated almost before Crabbe and Goyle Sr. let go. He appeared a short way from the gates of Hogwarts. Almost immediately his ankle gave way and he fell to the cold ground, grateful for the darkness that hid him from sight. He lay there for a moment thinking how ironic it was that the cold ground actually felt good on his bruised and aching body. He clearly wasn't as young as he used to be and had lost some of his ability to move about on broken bones. "Ah, but I don't' have any gray hair, so I'll have to call it even," Snape thought to himself with a wry smile.

Well, clearly he needed some assistance to get up to the castle. He really didn't think he'd be able to self-levitate in his condition and he certainly wasn't going to crawl. Severus sighed. Hagrid. His cabin was probably closer than the castle. It made the most sense to send word to Hagrid. With a sigh, Severus raised his wand and a wisp of silver shot out of it and went streaking through the trees toward Hagrid's cabin.

A short time later heavy footfalls announced Hagrid's arrival. For a brief moment Severus thought he might have gotten away from the Death Eaters only to be shot through the heart with an arrow. But, after a moment of intense scrutiny, Hagrid lowered his crossbow and rushed over.

"Per-fessor Snape!" he cried started, "Yer hurt!"

"Yes, Hagrid, I am" Severus said trying not to sound too testy, although he didn't know why. "I was hoping you would assist me in making my way to the castle."

"O course, O course! Dumbledore's been in a right state about you, Perfessor! He'll be very glad tuh see ye." With that Hagrid bent down and scooped up Severus as easily as if he were a doll. 

  
  


He must have passed out while Hagrid carried him up to the hospital wing, for the next thing of which Severus was aware was being in a bed in the ward and hearing a shuffling step and rustling robe that indicated someone nearby was pacing. Severus opened his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the dim light. He could only just make out the figure of Dumbledore pacing up and down the center of the ward, seemingly deep in thought.

Severus felt a rush of gratitude at the sight of the man., and then immediately chided himself for his emotional weakness. That was what would likely get him or someone else killed. Dumbledore turned at the end of the room and started back. After a few steps he stopped, looked toward Severus and came to his bedside.

"Severus! How good to see you awake." Dumbledore said with a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you, headmaster," Snape said. Then, before Dumbledore had to ask he began to explain the events of the last several days. He stuck to the facts, omitting his private thoughts. Dumbledore looked at him searchingly when he had finished and Snape wondered what he had been able to intuit. Dumbledore, however, kept his thoughts to himself and for this Severus was grateful.

"Severus," he said quietly, "thank you."

Severus nodded curtly and looked away. He wasn't sure Dumbledore would thank him if he knew he had seriously entertained thoughts of quitting. Poppy Pomfrey broke the moment by bustling over with a goblet which she insisted Severus drink. Even before he finished he could feel the heaviness of sleep overtaking him.

When he woke sunlight was coming through the windows and there was something lying against him. He looked down and started. Phoebe, or rather her head, was lying on the bed next to him. She had obviously been sitting beside him and had fallen asleep, pitching forward onto the bed. As he moved she stirred, straightened up suddenly, looked at him, and gasped. She looked pale and squinty eyed as she usually did in the morning. She did not look ill-tempered, however, she looked... scared.

Even as this registered, her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears... with tears? Next thing he knew her head was once again on the bed and she was crying. Phoebe. Crying. He had seen her cheerful. He had seen her grumpy. He had seen her in many moods but never one this... well... emotional. Frankly he had no idea what to make of this, let alone what to do about it, none at all. He didn't recall ever being told what to do when someone throws their head down on your hospital bed and weeps. Instinct, long buried, told him to put his hand on her shoulder as she cried. He soon found himself gently stroking her hair. He knew that it was right somehow.

He didn't know why he wept. Was it relief? Despair? Fear? He could feel her shaking and wished he knew what to say to soother her, but he did not. He wanted to tell her not to cry but he knew this was wrong. Albus had told him over and again that people needed to cry, to release their emotions. Of course that was because Severus never did. But still... He also wanted to tell her that everything would be all right, but he didn't know that. He wasn't even sure why she was crying.

"Phoebe, what is it? Can I help?"

Suddenly she was shaking harder. 

"I'm sorry," Severus said, startled. But at this, she began to pull away and he tried to ignore the stab of paint his caused him. He lifted his hand to let her go.

When she straightened up he could see she was laughing. Laughing! Rejection was hard enough, but laughter? 

She saw the look on his face and stopped.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just that... Well, Severus, what it is... what it is... is you. You can't help how I feel. I'm sorry I'm a little hysterical, I think. I'm not sure, I've never been hysterical. Anyway, you apologizing... I'm sorry I should never have done that. I shouldn't have come." She made a sudden movement to leave and Severus' hand shot out with surprising speed to grab her wrist. He saw his action for what it was: one of desperation, of foolish hope. He hated how vulnerable this made him feel, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Phoebe, please, I still don't understand. Why shouldn't you have come? What shouldn't you have done?" he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice, "Please tell me."

She pulled her wrist from his grasp and turned her back. Severus felt his heart sink to a place he didn't know he had within him. She stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Finally, without turning, she said, "Severus, I... I'm... in... love... with you."

Severus felt that odd sensation in his chest... the one he had felt when Phoebe had wondered aloud if she could take points from students' houses if they were too cheerful and when she asked him if Dumbledore would mind if she took points for Ginny Weasley's red hair. The sensation bubbled up and suddenly he was laughing. He could see Phoebe stiffen and make a move toward the door. Ignoring the protests of recently mended broken bones and more bruises than he could count Severus slid out of bed and managed to catch her by the arm. He tried to turn her around, overbalanced and nearly feel. 

Phoebe had caught him, but she refused to look at him. She stared fixedly at the floor. 

"Phoebe," he said. She continued to look down. "Phoebe," He said more insistently.

She looked up and gave a small gasp of surprise.

"Severus, you're crying!"

He was sruprised, He hadn't realized this. He moved his hand to his wet cheek in wonder. He was crying. He couldn't remember the last time he had wept. Yet there they were: tears slipping down his cheeks in a procession of joy.

He looked at Phoebe who stood, transfixed, an uncertain look on her face. Suddenly Severus was overcome by the urge to do something very un-Snape-like and he didn't care. He moved closer to Phoebe and pressed his lips to hers. Even as he did so, he realized she was crying again, too. Were they her salty tears he tasted or his own? 

Suddenly he felt light-headed, and weak. He stumbled backward to fall on the bed, unintentionally pulling Phoebe down with him.

"Professor Snape! Professor Taylor!" came the indignant cry of Poppy Pomfrey, "What are you doing?"

"I tripped, Poppy," Phoebe said, winking at Severus.

Pomfrey's eyebrows moved toward her brow but she kept her own counsel, merely asking, "Are you alright, then?"

Standing up and brushing off her robes Phoebe said, "Oh yes, I am. How about you Professor Snape?"

"I am very well, thank you."

"Nonsense," Pomfrey said, bustling past Phoebe, "You've got a tremendous amount of healing to do and I'm here to make sure you do it."

"And a fine job you will do, I'm sure," came a venerable voice from the doorway. Dumbledore stood there wearing an expression of benevolent amusement. How long had he been there? Even as Severus met his eyes, Dumbledore's expression became grave. Still, as he moved forward, he smiled.

"Poppy, may I treat you to a cup of hot cocoa in the staff room? I think you deserve a break."

"Headmaster I'm fi-" Pomfrey began, then her eyes darted to Severus and Phoebe, "I'd be delighted." she said suddenly and walked toward the door, Albus Dumbledore in her wake.

As the door shut Pheobe (who was still sitting next to Severus on the bed) turned her head toward him and smiled shyly. She put twined her hands behind his neck and pulled his face to hers, kissing him. Severus felt a strange lightness in his chest as he kissed her back, eagerly, almost hungrily. He raised his own arms (ignoring the soreness) to circle her back. Once again his bruised bones and muscles failed him, he overbalanced and fell backward into the bed with a small cry of pain.

Phoebe looked horrified but he just laughed, laughed out loud, wondering at the strangeness of the sound. When he had stopped Phoebe helped him to a sitting position on the bed. He was surprised to see the look of anger on her features as she sat, again, on the edge of the bed. Her fists were clenched into tight balls, the knuckles standing out white.

"If I could kill them for what they did to you," she whispered harshly, "I would. As it is, I'm grateful I don't have any of the little deatheater spawn in my classes... I don't think I could take it."

Her anger at the Death Eaters and her fear was like a splash of cold reality. What a fool he continued to be. With his role as a double agent...

"Phoebe," Severus said, quickly reality crashing in, "You mustn't let these feelings you have show to anyone, it is very dangerous."

"I know, I know, I would never endanger you that way. I won't give the slightest hint I know anything of what happened besides the 'official' story. What is it? Something about the Forbidden Forest?"

"Yes," Severus said heavily, "I am stubbornly insisting I got into some trouble in the forest and refusing to elaborate on the details."

"How convenient," Phoebe said, dryly.

In the silence that stretched Severus struggled with what he knew he had to do next. It was harder than he imagined, but it had to be done.

"And I can't," he started, voice faltering a bit, "I can't let you love me. It will only get you killed one way or another."

"What?"

"It's too much leverage for the Death Eaters to resist, if they know I care about you... trust me."

"Even if they think you're loyal?"

"Phoebe, they never think anyone is loyal... just 'in line.' How they keep you in line is by holding the threat of abduction, torture, and death over people you care about."

"I don't really care." she said.

"Well, I think I do," Severus said quietly, "I can't let you love me."

Phoebe was on her feet, "You can't tell me how to feel," she said hotly, "And it's too Bloody Damn late. I don't think you get it, Severus. Now that I know you care about me... and you can no longer deny that you do... then life not loving you would be worse than dying."

"Dammit!" Severus' voice was full of self-loathing, "Damn my foolish selfish weakness! Why did I have to ask? Have to-"

Tears sparkled in Phoebe's eyes, "No. Don't say it, I couldn't bear it."

Severus' voice was strange to him, strangled, "I can't, I can't. Please, you have to go. I won't change my mind."

Phoebe was frozen, staring. 

"GO!" Severus yelled in a voice that shook his bed. Pheobe slowly turned and walked away.


	3. Shards of Glass

"I Can't Let You Love Me" Chapter 3

  
  


Phoebe walked swiftly down the corridors to the dungeon frustration, pain, and anger all fighting within her. As she walked her strides lengthened and became more purposeful, stronger, as the unexpressed emotions boiled within her. She nearly ran several students to the ground. More than one sprang out of her way and looked at her retreating back with surprise. Phoebe, however, did not stop nor did she look back. She needed to get to her office as quickly as possible before she exploded.

All the while one thought circled in her head "Damn, damn, damn, damn!" Damn what? She wasn't sure. Herself for falling in love, Snape for returning her feelings...for pushing her away, the death eaters? Well of course she'd like to damn the Death Eaters and Voldemort on general principles! "Arrgh!" She spat out in frustration and slammed open her office door. She promptly turned and slammed it shut behind her so hard that a few of the thick stones in the walls shifted. She had always had a nasty temper, that's why she tried not to get angry. But now it was too late.

She whipped out her wand and swung it sharply sending several items flying into the walls of her office. She narrowed her eyes and frowned. Then she shoved the stack of student papers off her desk onto the floor and transfigured everything else on it to glass. She proceeded to pick up each item individually and smash it against the far stone wall as hard as she could. She hurled the items with such force that, by the time she finished, her arms ached. 

It was only when everything that had been on the desk lay in glittering shards that she stopped, stood still, and found herself sinking to the floor. She sat with her back to the opposite wall and tried to resist the howl of misery and frustration welling in her, but she could not. She put her head in her hands and let herself not just cry, but actually weep as she had not done in years.

Why had she done it? Why had she said anything at all? Why had she told him? Couldn't she have left well enough alone? Ptolemy's Ghost, why couldn't she just keep pretending to herself it wasn't true... that something about this man drew her to him in a way that surprised even her? But, no, she'd had to admit it not only to herself but also to him! What had happened was worse than she could have imagined.

The worst she might have expected (had she been smart enough to think it through before she did it) was rejection. But to find that he felt it too and still rejected her... That was worse. The fact that it was supposedly for her own safety was cold comfort. Weren't matters of her safety her decision? 

She slammed her fist on the hard floor and heard the unmistakable crack of a bone breaking even before she felt it. When she did feel it she let out several choice oaths she had picked up in her travels.

"Your vocabulary has expanded in the last several years," a venerable voice said from the doorway. Phoebe's head whipped around to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway. "I knocked, but you clearly did not hear me,"

Suddenly, Phoebe was very aware of the fact that she was sitting on the floor across from a pile of shattered glass with what was undoubtedly a very messy face. Dumbledore had seen her crying... and she didn't generally let people see her cry. She wiped her cheeks with her hands and rose quickly.

"I apologize, sir, I'm sure that's not language fit for a professor." 

"Why ever not?" Dumbledore asked, "In the privacy of your office and out of the presence of students I don't see why you should censor yourself. Especially," he added, "when you have such colorful expressions at your disposal." Well, Dumbledore was the sort of person to particularly appreciate the curses she'd learned in America.

"Well, travel does tend to broaden one's horizons," she said dryly.

"Phoebe," Dumbledore said, a slight change in his voice, "I came to see if you are alright. I-"

Phoebe did something very few people ever did, she interrupted him, "Of course I am, sir, thanks you for asking."

"No," Dumbledore said firmly with a meaningful look at the pile of broken glass, "I don't think you are."

Phoebe didn't know what to say so, for once, she wisely said nothing letting her mind focus on the throbbing pain in her hand, instead.

"When Severus refused to tell me why he was so upset I thought it best to come and speak with you," Dumbledore said.

When Dumbledore mentioned Severus being upset Phoebe forgot about her hand for a moment, then silently cursed herself. She only just stopped herself from banging her other hand into the wall. If she didn't watch it she'd be joining Severus in the hospital wing and she really didn't think she could stand to be there right now. Still, however, she said nothing.

Dumbledore sighed, cleared his throat and spoke again, carefully and gently, "Phoebe, it seems clear to me that you and Severus have begun to care deeply for one another. Unless I'm very much mistaken, it was only just now that you both realized the feeling was mutual." Phoebe nodded miserably. "And yet," he continued, "I find you both visibly upset a short time later. This concerns me. Now, I could make some suppositions but it seems wiser and better to ask why."

Phoebe sighed very heavily and shook her head. "I was foolish to allow myself to get into this mess in the first place." She turned from him and walked toward her bookshelves. She hoped not looking at him would make it easier. "Severus is of the opinion that being in a relationship with him would get me killed and so..." she trailed off, feeling embarrassed and hurt.

"So he refuses to do anything about the way you both feel." Dumbledore finished for her, "I see." He paused here, and Pheobe could hear the rustle of his robes, "I can understand why Severus thinks as he does." Phoebe winced at this but Dumbledore continued, seemingly unaware, "Nonetheless I had hoped... I had hoped that together the two of you might overcome the unfortunate trait you share."

"And that is?" Phoebe asked.

"Fear."

"Fear?" Phoebe whirled, incredulous, "Us? Fear? I hardly think that's a fair assessment, do you?"

"Yes I do," Dumbledore replied, holding up a hand to stay her protests, "You both have shown a great deal of courage to be sure, but you both fear the same thing above all others."

"Love?" Phoebe asked.

"After a fashion, but not that specifically. I think if you think about it you will understand. When you are ready to talk about it I will be here." Dumbledore said gently. With that he left closing the door very quietly behind him.


	4. Mending and Rending

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 4

  
  


Severus Snape had returned form his encounter with the Death Eaters weak and shaken but remarkably philosophical. After all, it was something he had been expecting to happen. What happened later... the whole incident with Phoebe... was what left him undone. 

"Fool!" he chided himself angrily, "Selfish Bastard!"

Why? Why had he pushed her to confess her feelings? Why had he kissed her? "Dammed Fool!"

"When the hell, exactly," he asked himself, "was I so stupid as to allow myself to fall in love with her?" After all these years he should have known better. And yet here he was.

A part of him insisted this was likely what he deserved. This was his final atonement: to have to deny himself love and wound the one he loved in the bargain. It certainly was hell, but there was nothing else to be done - no choice.

So he'd refused to see Phoebe again while in hospital; insisting a reluctant Madam Pomfrey turn her away from the door as many times as it took for her to stay away. He didn't ask how often that turned out to be. 

Dumbledore had come in and attempted to "talk sense" into him. At least that's the impression Snape had. But Severus was resolute.

"You, Albus," he snapped, "should know better than anyone what the risk is. You know why I MUST do this!"

"I know why you think you must, Severus," Dumbledore replied calmly, "Alas, that is but one of the reasons."

"Albus, not that again," Severus shot back, "This is not because I 'won't allow myself to feel.' If I didn't care I wouldn't be doing this, would I?" He had shouted this last and the noise had brought a concerned Madam Pomfrey from her office. Snape took the opportunity her emergence into the ward provided to shift and look away from Dumbledore - to signal the end of his willingness to talk about it further. There was a heavy pause, then Severus heard the swish of Dumbledore's robes moving toward the door.

On the evening of his third day Madam Pomfrey released him. He headed gratefully for his dungeon office and quarters. Upon stepping into the corridor which housed them, however, he stopped short. His breath caught in his chest and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Phoebe's office door was ajar and light spilled from it into the corridor. Through the sound of his pulse beating in his ear, Severus caught the rustle of parchment and the sound of a small sigh.

At the sigh he had instinctively reached out but he quickly pulled his arm back. It was no good. His door lay beyond hers. He would have to pass by.

He moved as quickly and as quietly as he could. Just as he passed, however, he heard her say "Severus?" He did not answer. He merely slipped into his office and firmly shut his door. He stood just inside the door, however, fighting the urge to throw it back open ...to run next door and sweep her in his arms like some cheap cinematic Romeo. As he stood there he could just make out the sound of steps in the hall then the soft click of her own latch.


	5. Re-Broken

"I Can't Let You Love Me" Chapter 5

  
  


What the students noticed when Snape returned to class was that the Potion Master's disposition had soured considerably... possibly reaching a new low. The Ancient Studies professor, on the other hand, had become much more subdued. She taught with less joy and enthusiasm. This being her first winter of dungeon living, most people assumed she was ill. In any case, the dungeon was not a happy place to be.

Few students even considered a connection between Taylor's mood and Snape's. His, after all, was clearly a result of his mysterious misadventure in the Forbidden Forest and the injuries he was apparently still nursing. Besides, few people would ever suspect him of having anything to do with a relationship.

Hermione Granger thought it an odd coincidence that both professors' moods had changed noticeably at the same time. Still, Hermione wasn't one to leap to a conclusion. Plus, like her classmates, her mind just didn't go to that place when it came to Snape. She had noticed Professor Taylor often massaged one hand with the other and assumed the damp chill of the dungeon had made its way into her joints.

"Professor," she said after class, "Please forgive me if it's not my place to say so; but you look as if a dose of Madam Pomfrey's Pepperup Potion might do you some good."

Taylor had raised her eyebrows at this and a sadness seemed to cross her face.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. I appreciate your concern," she said, "I suggest you move smartly now, though, or you'll be late for your next class."

Phoebe massaged her hand absently as she watched Hermione go. She wasn't totally surprised a student thought she might be ill. She let go of her hand and flexed it. She should never have mended the broken bone herself - but she hadn't been willing to face the hospital wing again that evening. 

With a sigh she conjured a mirror and held it up to her face for a frank appraisal. 

"Well," she thought dryly, "I certainly look as if I've been living in a dungeon."

Her skin was quite pale, almost waxy. Her hair hung limply around it and her eyes each had dark smudges underneath that looked as if they were trying to creep up and around her eyes. Even her lips had gone nearly as pale as the rest of her face. 

Well, there wasn't much Pomfrey could do for her sorry appearance... that wasn't due to a medical condition, after all. She could, however, fix the damnable hand and it was about time Phoebe let her.

When Poppy Pomfrey caught sight of Phoebe walking in to the Hospital wing she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Are you ill dear?" she asked

"No. Not really." Pheobe said, apparently unconvincingly. Pomfrey gave her a piercing look which clearly communicated the fact that SHE thought Phoebe WAS ill.

"I'm just tired," Phoebe said lightly, managing a weak smile, "I really came because of my hand. I'm afraid I was foolish enough to try and heal a broken bone myself. I did a rather poor job." 

She held out her hand and Pomfrey frowned and began to examine it.

"How long ago did you do it?" she asked without looking up.

"About two weeks." Phoebe said.

Pomfrey glanced up with a knowing look. "Hmmmm.... Well I do wish you had come to me earlier dear, but done is done. I'm afraid, however, I'll need to break it again in order to heal it properly."

"Fine."

Pomfrey looked mildly surprised at Phoebe's reaction (or lack of it). Still, she said nothing as she led Phoebe to a chair and placed her hand on a small white metal table beside it. She bustled off to her office returning with a tray holding a wand, a small goblet, and a bottle of Skele-Gro.

"The re-breaking will hurt, I'm afraid," Pomfrey said.

"Fine. Just do it quickly."

Pomfrey sighed, picked up the wand and pointed it at the hand. Phoebe heard a loud snap and felt the pain go racing up her arm. She sat perfectly still, however, merely clenching the other fist very, very hard. Pomfrey waved her wand again and Phoebe felt a funny shift within her hand and the pace lessened a bit. Pomfrey then poured about a dram of Skele-Gro in the goblet and held it out to Phoebe. She made a face but took it with her good hand and drank it quickly trying keep from tasting it.

"Very Good, then," Pomfrey said, "You'll need to sit there for an hour then you may go."

Pomfrey bustled back to her office with the tray and returned with some magazines in hand. 

"Forgive me, but I must step out briefly. I will return when it is time for you to leave." Pomfrey then handed Phoebe the magazines and walked swiftly from the otherwise empty ward. Phoebe watched her go then looked down at the magazines. "Teen Witch," and "Quidditch Illustrated." The subscriptions had obviously not been taken with the faculty in mind. She put the magazines down and stared out the window instead.

She didn't know how long she had been lost in her thoughts when the sound of a sharp step distracted her. She looked up... at Severus Snape. He had stopped short upon catching sight of her and looked rooted to the spot.

"Poppy told me she needed to check my ribs," he said, feeling extremely dull-witted but unable to stop talking, "Told me to come on ahead. Said she would be along in a moment. I think she lied."

Phoebe just looked at him and concentrated on breathing. It had suddenly gotten harder, as if the air had grown thicker somehow. 

Severus looked at her closely and started at her wan appearence.

"Are you alright?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh... me? Yes, I'm fine. Just resetting a small broken bone." Phoebe managed with a nod of her head toward the hand still lying on the table.

Severus took a step closer and halted with a jerk. Then, with an obvious effort at nonchalance, he asked, "How did you break it?"

That was not a question Phoebe really cared to answer. And the awkwardness of the whole situation reminded her forcibly of adolescence. She shook her head. They were adults and should be well past this.

"It's a long story." She said evasively, then "Oh, do sit down, Severus! We can at least try to behave like adults, can't we?" Her voice quavered just slightly as she finished and Snape felt the bottom of his stomach drop unexpectedly at this. "Damn," he thought, "Why is this so hard? Why in Merlin's Name, do I feel this way?"

His body literally ached to put his lips on her hand and work upward from there... "No!" his brain commanded, "Concentrate on something else!" His heart and his legs, however, weren't listening. The image had been too seductive and they were carrying Severus to the seat next to Phoebe. "Fool!" his brain cried in a last ditch attempt to distract him, but it was useless.

The epithet was lost in the sensation of his lips on hers. He was kissing her, tangling his fingers in her hair, feeling her hands on his face and his neck. Barely pausing for breath he kissed her more deeply and felt her mouth open beneath his. For the next few moments he was feeling alone, no thought. All too soon, however, his brain began to re-assert itself. All of the reasons he shouldn't, couldn't be doing this came back to him in a sick, guilty rush. 

He pulled away from her, breathing hard.

"No!," He said in a strangled voice, "No, I can't! I mustn't! Gods, I'm sorry!"

"Why? Why not?" she shot back.

"I've told you," Severus moaned letting his head fall into his hands.

"And I get no say in this? No say even though it is SUPPOSEDLY my welfare you're concerned about?"

Severus' head snapped up. "SUPPOSEDLY? Do you think this is easy? Do you think I'm-"

"I think," Phoebe interrupted, "That you are afraid."

"Of course I am! I told you the Death Eaters-"

"NO! Not of them, of me."

Severus' mouth worked for a minute before he was able to speak, "No, you're wrong. Fear is not... I'm not... I..."

Phoebe moved toward him, gripped the back of his head, and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him with a startling passion. Panicked, Severus pulled away. 

"No! No, please Phoebe, I can't! I can't risk it!"

"What, feeling something? Loving someone? Being vulnerable? Trust me, I know what that's like. Do you have any idea how totally vulnerable and afraid it makes ME to say I love YOU? Severus being vulnerable isn't the worst thing in the world anymore! We're no longer defenseless children!"

Severus reached out and put his hands on her face. When he spoke his voice shook. "Phoebe, I am scared witless of letting myself love you. I won't lie about that. But I'm not as frightened of vulnerability or love or any of that as I am of the GUILT. It may kill me but I can't let you be in a position where you are killed because of me! That, I just can't imagine... I can't think... I..." 

Then as she had a moment ago he pulled her lips to his and kissed her, almost desperately. After an timeless moment he pulled away, stood, and said resolutely, "I can't." And then he was gone and Phoebe was left alone, again.


	6. You dont know what you're asking

"I Can't Let You Love Me" Chapter 6

  
  


It was quite some time before Phoebe returned to the dungeon. Torches had flickered to life in the gathering darkness by the time she made her way purposefully toward Severus' door. She knocked firmly and, when a few moments passed called out, "Don't make me use magic, Severus." When he opened the door he was paler even than he had been the night he'd returned from his Death Eater ordeal. She walked past him into the office and he silently shut the door. She turned back to face him.

"Recruit me."

"Pardon?" Severus said, completely confused.

"As a Death Eater. Recruit me. Then I'll be one of them and far less tempting as blackmail."

Snape looked horrified. "No! Absolutely not! You don't know what you're asking!"

"I've a better idea than you think and if pretending to be a stinking Death Eater is the only way, then so be it! Believe me, Severus, I can pull it off!"

"No, I can't let you."

"Will you bloody stop deciding what you can and can't 'let' me do as if I were a child!"

Snape did not rise to the bait. He just shook his head and kept looking over at her. Phoebe just watched him.

Finally he said, very calmly, "No. Besides the fact that you cannot possibly know what it entails," here he held a hand up to stop her protesting, "they would never, never buy it. They would never think I was so foolish as to risk detection by Dumbledore in approaching a member of the faculty. Never."

"We could say I came to you."

"They still wouldn't believe it. Phoebe, I'm telling you the truth! Even if I... Phoebe it would never work!"

"Alright," Phoebe replied savagely, "But it's still MY life to risk. I'd rather risk it being with you than by being so depressed without you that I feel the need to poison myself or fling myself off the astronomy tower!"

Severus looked at her with an expression of mingled wonder and disbelief. Finally he reached out to her, "To hear you say these things, to know... I never... I... But I still can't let you risk it."

Phoebe wrenched her arm from his grasp. "Severus Snape, I have no idea what the hell happened to me but I do know this: I refuse to live without you! ...You overly noble idot!"

When he spoke Severus' voice was hoarse, "Please, please, you say you love me, if you do please just go. Please."

Phoebe looked as if she'd been slapped, then turned on her heel and left.

  
  
  
  


"Well," she thought, "It wasn't for nothing I've been putting everyone but Slytherin in detention. Hopefully sonny-boy Malfoy has told his daddy all about it."

He had. She could tell by the recognition in Lucius Malfoy's eyes. Soon she was sitting across from him sneering about what a muggle loving idiot Albus Dumbledore was. After a time she settled her features into an expression of cold appraisal.

"Enough," She said shortly with a note of disgust, "I am ill suited to small talk, Malfoy. I've come to make you an offer."

Malfoy was obviously trying to keep his expression neutral but Phoebe could read a face, especially the face of a bastard like Malfoy. He was interested.

"Really," he drawled lazily, "And what would that be."

"I am prepared to help you obtain that two-faced coward who used to work for the Dark Lord but now sits sniveling at Dumbledore's feet like a dog." She spat out the last and let her lip curl in a sneer.

Malfoy was on the hook.

"By that I assume you mean...?"

"Severus F****** Bloody Snape."

"Why?"

"I want to join Lord Voldemort's service."

"Again I ask: why?"

Phoebe leaned forward and spoke, drawing on years of venom, "Because I have been weak and I have suffered at the hands of the powerful and I don't care to do so again. I thought for a time that I could be content to be neutral, but a term under the crooked nose of that weak, bustering...." Phoebe let herself trail off, then picked up her thread, "Dumbledore is an old fool and he will lose the battle to come. I would rather be on the side of the one who will triumph. I will not align myself with the weak."

A small smile curled the edge of Malfoy's lips and a small light sparked in his eye. Phoebe continued,

"I'm perfectly willing to prove my intent by delivering the turncoat to you. Oh, I know Snape was a deatheater and I know that he managed to skate into Dumbledore's good graces just before the accounts were called in for payment. I think he should pay for his disloyalty and I'm perfectly willing to collect as a sign of my good faith."

"Ah," Malfoy said silkily, "Snape supposedly isn't as far in Dumbledore's good graces as Dumbledore supposes. Our Severus had maintained his position with Dumbledore as a double agent. Didn't you know?"

He was watching her very closely. She spat. "Oh please! You can't seriously buy such a tale! If he was truly on the Dark Side why does he refuse to discuss it with anyone, even someone so clearly interested... so clearly ready to accept as myself? If I thought he was still on your side I would have gone to HIM instead of you." She scoffed.

"But then how could he be sure you weren't a spy for Dumbledore, just checking on his loyalties?" Malfoy drawled, clearly beginning to enjoy himself. That told Phoebe all she needed to know. He believed her. It was time to seal the deal.

"Come to that," Malfoy continued, "How do WE know YOU'RE not Dumbledore's spy?"

This was exactly the question. She was home free.

"Because I intend to kill the lapdog Snape for you. I hardly think Dumbledore would approve, do you?"

At this, Malfoy smiled... a cold smile with no real light in it. It was more like a grimace than a true smile. 

"Very Well. I will discuss the matter with my Lord Return to Dumbledore and say nothing, do nothing, to give yourself away. We will be in touch... one way or another.


	7. The Dark Lord

"I Can't Let You Love Me" Chapter 7

  
  


It didn't take long for Lucius Malfoy to come for Phoebe. She doubted it would, one way or another. She knew she would "check out." She had no real connection to Dumbledore outside of her relationship to him as both student and teacher. Her parents had been cruel and evil Bastards so it wouldn't be hard for Voldemort or Malfoy to fathom her affinity for the Dark Side. Her parents would finally do her a favor by providing plausible motivation for her to want to be the one administering the pain rather than the one receiving it.

She received an owl the next evening with a note instructing her to meet Lucius Malfoy in the Forbidden Forest at midnight. For the first time she allowed herself to feel the cold thrill of fear but then ruthlessly pushed the fear away with the cold hand of experience. Snape was avoiding her and that suited her just fine. She simply needed to get through the day...

  
  


Malfoy's skin and hair glowed eerily in the thin beam of light from Phoebe's wand. 

"The Dark Lord is intrigued by your offer," he said.

"Good. When shall I bring Snape to you?"

"Not so fast, not so fast. Our lord still believes Snape to be both loyal and useful."

Phoebe snorted but said nothing, carefully gauging Malfoy's behavior.

"If you wish to serve the Dark Lord, you will learn not to question him. If he feels Snape has his uses here it is not for us to judge. Do you understand?"

Phoebe narrowed her eyes slightly then lowered her head, "Yes. I understand."

"Your study of ancient runes and languages makes you quite useful to our lord for he desires to gain more knowledge of the old magic. But," He said raising a hand, "He will not remove you from Hogwarts just yet."

"What?!" Phoebe hissed, concentrating on being indignant.

"Having two Death Eaters keeping an eye on Dumbledore AND one another is too good an arrangement to pass up."

"He intends to leave me here? He expects me to feign loyalty to the champion of Mudbloods and Muggles?" Phoebe said, letting a horrified note enter her voice.

"YES I DO." The voice was not Malfoys but a higher, colder one coming from the trees somewhere behind him. Phoebe narrowed her eyes and scanned the dark trees, finally spotting the reflection of .... red eyes. They moved and a thin yet imposing figure began to emerge and move into the circle of wandlight. Lord Voldemort. Phoebe felt a chill run up her spine as she felt a thrill of fear. Almost too late she quashed the feeling and concentrated on how she should feel. Thrilled, yes thrilled. A little frightened perhaps, but thrilled and excited. Yes.

"My Lord," she breathed as his horrific snake-like face moved into the wandlight.

"Walk with me," Voldemort intoned imperiously as he swept off into the heart of the forest without bothering to light his wand. The place Malfoy had chosen for their meeting was on the very edge of the grounds of Hogwarts so that it took little time to emerge from them into the surrounding countryside. As soon as they were a distance away from the grounds Voldemort stopped and turned, waiting. 

When Malfoy and Phoebe stopped next to him he swung his wand and the countryside around Phoebe dissapeared.

  
  


Back at the castle Ron Weasley, Dean, Seamus, and Neville had just managed to shake Harry Potter back into consciousness. Harry's hand's flew to his scar and he pressed his forehead as if he were fighting to keep it from splitting wide open. 

"The Scar," he said hoarsely, struggling to speak, "Pain. Bad. Passed out."

The boys who shared his dorm didn't need to be told. Harry had awoken them with a blood curdling scream just before falling, unconscious from his bed.

"Dumbledore," Harry continued, "Tell Dumbledore. Quick."

Ron stood. "Dean, Seamus, stay with Harry. Neville, go get Madam Pomfrey. I'm going to get Dumbledore." 

As he moved toward the door it flew open to admit Fred and George followed closely by Professor McGonagall and Hermione Granger. Fred and George insisted on helping Harry to the hospital wing while Ron ran to get word to Dumbledore to meet Harry there. A grim faced McGonagall ordered Harry's dorm mates to bed before she turned to walk with Fred, George, and Harry. She wasn't letting Harry out of her sight. Neither was Hermione.

It seemed clear to Dumbledore that Voldemort had been very near... perhaps even on the grounds. Although it also seemed clear, based on the considerable reduction of pain in Harry's scar, that he was no longer present. Still, Dumbledore insisted on a search of the grounds and castle. 

The faculty were roused to assist Hagrid and Flitwick in this task. It was then Severus Snape realized they had another, very serious problem. Professor Taylor was missing and he had a horrible sick feeling there was a connection between Voldemort's brief appearance and her sudden absence. 


	8. Nothing Left to Lose

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 8

  
  


At the end of an hour Phoebe was barely able to stand under her own power, but stand she did. She smiled at the grim irony that had occurred to her during her "initiation." In a twisted way her parents were protecting her now as they never had as a child. The constant abuse she had suffered at their hands had given her the strength and stamina to stand up under the torture administered by Voldemort, Malfoy, and the sniveling little man with a silver hand.

She knew that these things were not merely an "initiation." They were designed to test her loyalties. They were designed to so weaken her physically and mentally that she would be unable to lie or pretend. Things didn't always work the way they were intended to, she noted with grim satisfaction. That truth potion, for instance, was pathetic. Yes, it had created a desire in her to be open and honest. True, it had made it more difficult to lie. It had not made it impossible. 

Phoebe gave herself a mental shake. She must not indulge in these thoughts, not here, not now. There was no telling what Voldemort's capacity to read thought was! She needed to be more careful. She turned her thoughts forcibly back to the insignificant details of the barren moor around her, the clothing of the men with her, the details of Voldemort's horrid appearance, the need to keep standing... 

She was very good at separating her mind from what was happening to her body, and it was just as well for things only got worse over the next half hour. Finally, Voldemort stepped in front of her, a hideous parody of a smile on his snake-like features.

"Well, done, Taylor," he hissed, "You will stand up to the Aurors very well, I think. Hold out your arms," He commanded suddenly.

When Phoebe did he grasped her left arm and touched his wand tip to it. Her flesh sizzled as the Dark Mark literally burned its way into her arm from the place where the wand touched it. It hurt like hell but her mind had moved past detachment and was almost completely separated from what was going on. A logical part of it wondered if she was in physical shock. 

When the image of the skull with the snake emerging from its mouth had finally formed Voldemort removed his wand, but did not let go. Instead, he lay a spidery finger to the mark and Phoebe's mind was jerked back as the mark burned anew.

  
  


In Dumbledore's office Snape gasped as his grabbed his left arm. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe and stared with at the dark mark burning black. He looked at Dumbledore and back to the mark. "You know what I must do." he said grimly.

"Yes," Dumbledore said gravely, "Go at once, do not waste time."

Without a further word Snape rose and moved swiftly out of the office. He headed out of the castle and took the most direct route off the grounds so he could apparate to answer Voldemort's summons.

The time it took to get off the grounds so he was able to apparate made him one of if not the last of the Death Eaters to arrive on the moor. The others stood in a circle around a fire. Within the circle Snape could see Voldemort and the white-blond hair of Malfoy. As he walked up to take his place he could see there were two others. A glint of silver told him one was likely Wormtail. As for the other person... he really didn't care to think about it.

Yet, as he took his place in the circle he didn't need to. Reality slapped him hard in the face. It was Phoebe and she looked considerably the worse for wear. Still she stood tall and her eyes flashed defiantly. Voldemort had turned to watch Snape join the circle and a thin smile curled his flat lips.

"You look surprised, Severus," he said softly, "I take it you recognize our new Death Eater?"

Snape scowled and focused on his anger rather than his despair.

"Indeed," growled with a sudden burst of inspiration, "I know her and I am surprised, my 

lord. I believed myself to be alone at Hogwarts. Forgive me, my lord, I still need to be convinced that is not so." 

"Such mistrust, such suspicion," Voldemort tutted, "Still, our Ms. Taylor also appears to be less than fond of you. Even this, I suspect, will work to our advantage." With that Voldemort turned and began to sweep around the circle of Death Eaters speaking of other matters. It seemed to Severus that this little "session" might never end. At last, however, it did.

As the Death Eaters began to disapparate, Voldemort's voice floated over to Severus, "Snape, a word." Snape scowled at the form of Phoebe and watched her disapparate as he walked over to Voldemort.

"Professor Taylor will be a valuable addition to our ranks," Voldemort began, "Take her in hand and keep a very close eye on her."

"Yes, my lord," Severus intoned... and Voldemort was gone with a sweep of his wand. Snape stood there for a moment as the last of the men and women disapparated. Then he took a deep breath and waved his wand.

Phoebe had made it back into the woods that marked the border of the Hogwarts grounds; but she hadn't gotten much further. She leaned up against a tree and held on to it with both hands trying very hard not to retch. Now that it was over, a rush of physical and emotional pain had overwhelmed her. Severus had been correct, she hadn't known what she was getting into. She knew now. Slowly, using the tree to brace herself, she lowered herself to the ground and let herself lean against the trunk, fighting the urge to cry.

A flash of light caught her eye and she looked up. A thin beam of light was moving swiftly back and forth among the trees and shrubs. Wandlight. Severus? Hagrid? Malfoy again? She winced at the thought. The beam hit her in the face and she screwed her eyes shut as she heard footsteps moving swiftly toward her. She'd find out in less than a second who it was.

"Phoebe?" an uncertain voice said. It was Severus. She looked up into his face and found so many emotions playing across it, she was at a loss to read it.

"What have you done?" he asked, "What have you done?"

" I'm going to help defeat him or die trying."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Severus breathed, "Oh, Phoebe, why?"

"Because I have nothing left to lose," she said dully, " I am committed to fighting him in the hope that we'll both live long enough to see his end," she coughed harshly and tasted blood in her mouth before finishing, "his end and our beginning. I told you I'd rather die..." She started coughing again. "Dammit!" she managed as she fought the cough back down.

Severus' head was reeling and he could feel his heart hammering hard in his chest. He didn't know what to feel: horrified? outraged? frightened? moved? shocked? despairing? He put his head back to take a deep breath and noticed the scattered pieces of the sky visible through the tree tops had changed from black to navy blue. It would be dawn soon. There was time enough to sort out feelings later. At the moment they needed to get back to the castle before anyone was awake to see them return.

Secrecy was the key to his... and now Phoebe's... success and safety. True Death Eaters would maintain secrecy at all costs and so must they. The only one who could know was Dumbledore. He needed to know as soon as possible.

"Phoebe," He asked, "Can you walk? The sun will be rising soon. We need to get back."

Phoebe nodded silently and took a deep breath. Her hands fumbled on the tree trunk, seeking to use it to push herself up when Severus grasped her under the arms to help her rise. She clenched her jaw hard as he pulled her to her feet. She stood still for a moment, breathing hard, then she nodded. Severus began to help her make the slow journey back to the castle.

The sky was growing lighter as they reached the castle and went straight down to the dungeons. Most of the staff had returned to bed hours ago, when it was clear Voldemort wasn't around. Dumbledore had wisely not made them aware there was another problem. The castle was silent as they made their way to Phoebe's rooms... "as silent as a tomb," Severus thought with a grimace.

As soon as her door closed Phoebe made her way carefully to her couch and Severus strode to the fireplace, lit a fire with his wand, and took a ceramic jar from the mantle. He threw a handful of glittering powder into the flames and called, 

"Albus, a word please!"

Dumbledore came whirling into the fireplace and emerged, absently dusting soot from his robes. He strode over to an extraordinarily pale Phoebe at once and crouched in front of her.

"Phoebe," he said carefully, "Are you alright?" She nodded.

"What happened, Phoebe?" he asked. In answer she thrust out her left arm and pulled back the sleeve of her robe to reveal the ugly charred Dark Mark. Dumbledore looked grim. "How?" he asked.

A hint of defiance lit Phoebe's eyes as she replied, "I volunteered."

"Why?"

"There is no true life for me while Voldemort has power. I'm going to help bring him down or die trying."

Dumbldore rose and walked to the fireplace, standing there silently for a few moments. Finally he turned back to Phoebe.

"Much though I wish you had discussed this with me, what has been done cannot be undone."

"Indeed," Phoebe noted dryly.

"We must now decide how to use the situation to help in the struggle against Voldemort, and we need to figure out how to keep you from dying in the effort. Who, besides Severus and myself know what has happened?"

"No one but the death eaters who were present. Lucius Malfoy is the one who got me in so I don't know if he will have mentioned it to Draco. Since Voldemort wants me to spy on you and Severus," she said with sigh, "I rather doubt it, the boy might 'blow my cover' as they say."

"Can you tell me what happened last evening and this morning?"

Phoebe didn't want to. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to feel it. She wanted to sleep and escape the pain, even for a short time. Nonetheless she told Dumbledore, as succinctly as possible, what had happened.

"Phoebe," Dumbledore said very gently, "By what means did they torture you?"

Severus, who had been listening intently, stiffened at the question, but Phoebe appeared not to have noticed. She looked at Dumbledore with empty eyes and said,

"Physical." she said flatly.

"They beat you, then?" Dumbledore asked in the same gentle tone. Phoebe nodded.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing I'd care to discuss," Phoebe said looking at the floor.

"Did they use magic?"

"Yes."

"I see." Dumbledore said sadly, taking a breath. "Phoebe, I'd very much like to have you see Poppy Pomfrey but I know that wouldn't be wise."

"I don't think there is anything wrong with me that rest won't cure. I should be able to manage by Monday and you'll have to let me because you 'don't' know anything."

"I'm afraid you are correct," Dumbledore said heavily, "I will come back through the fireplace late this evening to check on you."

Phoebe thought about telling him it was not necessary, but didn't. Dumbledore left the way he came and Severus moved to stand in front of Phoebe.

"Don't." she said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't yell at me or argue with me. Not now."

"I didn't intend to. I was going to offer to help you to your bed."

"Thank you." Pheobe said quietly and allowed Severus to, once again, help her up and guide her into the next room. She lay down on top of the bedclothes, pulling the quilt folded at the bottom over her.

Severus sat at the edge of the bed and she did not ask him to go. Instead she let him put his arm around her. She curled into him, trying to ignore the screaming nerves in her body and the screaming memories in her mind. 


	9. Aftermath

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 9

  
  


Eventually, Phoebe's exhaustion carried her off into a deep sleep. Severus settled her as best he could and then slipped out of her rooms, going straight to his office. He had several of the potions he had in mind on hand but one would have to be brewed. The sooner he started the better.

For a time he was able to focus strictly on the mechanics of finding the phials of already brewed potion and obtaining the ingredients for the one he wished to brew, ticking them off in his head and checking them against the ancient text he had left open. He set his cauldron to simmering and added the first few ingredients carefully. It had been a while since he'd needed to brew this potion and he was determined to get it right. Part of him wanted it right because of the person for whom he brewed it. Another part obsessed on perfection in hopes that the demands of doing it so precisely would distract him from the disturbing thoughts that wanted to chase one another around in his head.

It didn't work. As he watched the solution bubble, his mind kept returning to the thoughts, experiences, and (yes, dammit, Albus) feelings of the night before. He remembered the horrible sensation of fear he'd had when Phoebe turned up missing. His skin had prickled as the nerves dealt with the rush of adrenaline. He'd felt the sudden clammy dampness of a cold sweat and it had felt as if an overlarge fist had reached in and closed itself around his stomach. 

How, in the name of all that was sacred, could she have done it? What was she thinking? Well, she probably wasn't thinking at all... that's what got her into this mess. It wasn't thought but feeling that had led them to this small corner of misery in which they both now lived. He was miserable, too. There was no use denying it. This was the very reason he didn't allow himself to care for others!

"Except," He heard Albus' voice echoing in his head, "You do care, Severus and this is not the first time, either." 

"Exactly the point," Snape growled to the absent Dumbledore. 

Albus' tones echoed once again in his memory, "You can't avoid feeling, Severus. All you can do is try to avoid dealing with your feelings. That, my friend, never works out in the long run."

Severus had begun to grind the pestle harder than was necessary a into the mortar containing chipped unicorn horn. He tipped the fine powder he had made into the cauldron just as the solution started to change color. It would be ready soon. And then? Then what? 

Then he would go awaken Phoebe and make her drink all the vile things, topped off by the potion for a dreamless sleep. Then what would he do? Wait, he supposed. His eyes strayed to his desk. It wasn't as if he didn't have a large pile of papers to grade. Of course the students probably wouldn't appreciate him grading their work in his current mood, but that couldn't be helped. He had to do something or he might go mad chasing the thoughts and implications of Phoebe's choice around in his head.

He added the final ingredient and watched dark clouds spread throughout the solution. Just when the liquid seemed to have gone uniformly black clouds of white began to spread through it. When it had turned completely white he watched it simmer for a few moments, finally putting out the fire beneath it and reaching for his silver ladle. He carefully filled a small glass jar with the milky solution and placed it on a tray alongside several other potions, some silver spoons, and two goblets. He filled a large dispensary jar with the remainder of the white potion before picking up the tray with a sigh and heading for the door.

He checked to be sure the corridor was deserted before moving to Phoebe's door. He set the tray down and took out his wand muttering several incantations before the door latch clicked and swung slowly open. He shoved the wand up his sleeve, picked up the tray, and strode through the door, kicking it shut behind him. He stood in the sitting room of Phoebe's quarters for a moment, dreading the task of awakening her. Why? He wondered. Was it simple compassion, not wanting to wake someone who was ill? No. That would be corrected soon enough with the dreamless sleep potion. Why then? He was afraid. He was afraid of what he would see in her eyes when she opened them. Yes. Just as he had been afraid to look in his own eyes in the mirror all those years ago...

He might have stood there procrastinating for quite a bit longer but a sound from the bed room caught his ear. He moved quickly to the threshold and stopped short. Phoebe was moving spasmodically making inarticulate noises of fear and dread. As he watched her movements became more pronounced and her arms moved as if to fend someone off. "Nn, uh, N," her voice said, struggling to form words. 

Snape knew he should move to her, awaken her, but his feet had frozen to the spot. He watched, dry mouthed, as her movements became more violent. Her head was shaking, her fists were clenched as, still, she struggled to call out. Finally with a convulsive movement she screamed "NO!" and sat up clenching the quilt. She sat very still catching her breath until, finally, she threw the quilt aside with an angry movement. It was then she saw Severus. 

She started violently only to collect herself a split second later. He still hadn't moved, but had tried to compose his face. Finally, Pheobe broke the silence.

"Is that lot for me?" she said, inclining her head toward the tray Severus had nearly forgot he was carrying. He gave himself a mental shake and moved to place it on the bedside table.

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

Phoebe put her head in her hand, "Fine. Just please tell me one of them is the dreamless sleep potion."

"Yes, but before you take all this, would you like it if I waited in the sitting room for you to change and get properly in bed?"

"Hmph," Phoebe said a bit ruefully, "I suppose so."

Severus turned gratefully on his heel and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. He spend a few minutes pacing in front of the fireplace trying NOT to think about why he had stood frozen, unable to reach out to awaken Pheobe from her nightmare. When she called him back in she was in bed in flannel pyjamas with a white dressing gown around her shoulders. She sat stiffly, her right hand clutching her left forearm. Severus only just caught himself before he gasped at her appearance. Her face matched the white of the robe almost exactly. 

"I brewed a blood potion," he said, picking up the jar of milky liquid, "It will accelerate your body's production of blood. I'm afraid you look like you need it."

Phoebe said nothing as she took doses one healing potion after another, each separated by a precise time interval. By the time Severus filled one of the goblets with the potion for a dreamless sleep she looked queasy. That many potions in succession was enough to make anyone a bit ill, Severus supposed. Still, their administration had been carefully timed and he needed to get them in her before she took the sleep potion and slept for Merlin knew how long. 

Her eyelids began fluttering even before she finished the sleep potion, but she resolutely drank it all. Even as Severus took the goblet he could see her drifting off. He eased her back onto her pillow and turned to pull the covers up. He lifted her arms very carefully and placed them beneath the bedding. He was careful not to look at her left forearm as he did so. Feeling oddly parental, he pulled the covers up to her chin, picked up the tray and left.

  
  


Her colour seemed closer to that of the ghosts than anything else when she stood, scowling, outside her classroom on Monday. Severus was not entirely sure she shouldn't have begged off classes with some story or other but he'd learned not to argue with her, especially now. While she had grown rather silent and seemed to have become more stubborn and un-movable than ever. 

He turned into his own classroom with a scowl and only just heard her take ten points from Gryffindor as he shut his own door. In an odd way he felt sorry for the students in her classes and for their houses. He had a feeling that a great deal of points would be lost today. It wouldn't increase her popularity with the students but, he supposed, it would sound good to Malfoy when Draco told him... as he surely would.

Phoebe had been very silent in the private meeting Dumbledore had with the two of them in his office late Monday afternoon. She nodded when Albus greeted her. She nodded when he asked her to sit. She nodded when he asked how she was feeling. She continued to nod when Albus and Severus agreed that not much was to be done about their "situation" at present save continuing to play their respective parts. When Dumbledore indicated the meeting was over she nodded once more, rose, and left. As he watched her go, Severus realized she hadn't spoken a word.

She asked that night, as she had the night before, for the blood potion and the sleep potion. She took them in silence, thanked him, and left. As Severus stared at the door she had closed behind her, her realized the irony of the situation. He had been worried about what he would say to her once she woke up and was once more out and about. She, however, didn't seem to want to talk to him or anyone else... not even Albus.

  
  


Two weeks later, things hadn't improved much and the rest of the faculty could be heard making occasional observations that dungeon life obviously had a detrimental effect on one's disposition. Severus probably didn't help dispel that notion by glaring hatefully at anyone when he caught them saying such things, but he didn't care. He had other things to worry about. He worried about things like the fact that Phoebe's complexion hadn't improved that much, save for the slight green pallor she had developed. He worried about the fact that she still wasn't talking much, except to give class lectures. He was worried that Albus had been right about not expressing emotions, and he was worried that he really didn't know what to do to help.

  
  


He was surprised, therefore, when at Friday dinner she said, "We need to talk. Ten O'clock, my sitting room. Use floo." Severus arrived to find Dumbledore had also been invited. He felt his stomach drop. Had the Death Eaters contacted her? Voldemort? She motioned for Severus to sit and he took a chair opposite Albus, who looked concerned. Phoebe sat on her couch only to rise immediately and move behind it. She put both hands on the back of the couch then pulled them up to cross her arms. She looked down for a moment, and took a deep breath.

When she looked up again her jaw was set. "I have a problem from my.. Death Eater initiation," she said grimly.

Snape thought of how pale she had been. "A health problem?" he asked.

She looked away and shook her head ruefully, "After a fashion, I suppose," she said heavily. 

"Child, what is it?" Albus asked in a gentle voice.

Phoebe continued to look away from both Severus and Albus as she spoke in a remarkably dead voice, "I'm pregnant."


	10. Oh For the Wisdom of Solomon

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 10: Oh For the Wisdom of Solomon

  
  


"I'm pregnant"

Phoebe's words seemed to hang in the air for a long while. At first Severus could only focus on those two words, but mere seconds later his mind was assaulted with what they meant. She hadn't told them everything that had happened that night. She hadn't told them everything had been done to her by - Merlin's Ghost - Malfoy and Voldemort that night. Now he knew why. His mind reeled with horror and shock ... and anger. 

He could feel Phoebe's eyes on him now. He should say something, do something, but he was frozen, impotent. Dumbledore, however, had risen and walked over to Phoebe. He put his arms on her shoulders and guided her to the couch, sitting beside her. 

"I am so sorry, Phoebe," He said taking her hands, "I had hoped they hadn't..." he trailed off. "How can we help?" he asked, finally. Phoebe looked at Snape, who still found his vocal chords paralyzed. She looked down and away. When she spoke her voice was more dead than ever.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do..."

"You want to terminate, I suppose," Dumbledore said carefully.

Tears began to fall from Phoebe's still downcast eyes.

"Gods, yes. I want it gone, I want it all gone. Over. But..."

"You're not sure you can?"

"No" Phoebe whispered, "But if I don't..."

There was silence as each person in the room finished the sentence for themselves and let the implications sink in. Finally, Dumbledore gently broke the silence,

"May I ask who?"

"Either ...Malfoy or ...or" Phoebe trailed off miserably.

"Voldemort." Snape said, speaking for the first time since Phoebe had told them she was pregnant.

"He's hardly human, how could a child be less than a monster?" Phoebe whispered. "Even if it's normal how could I ever look at it, ever... care for it, knowing who, remembering how...?"

"Phoebe," Dumbledore said, his voice still gentle, "Deciding to bear the child and deciding to raise the child are separate decisions. The second doesn't have to be made right now."

"No, but the first one needs to be made soon." Phoebe said flatly.

Severus was having trouble using his voice, it sounded strange to him when he finally spoke again, "Whatever you decide, whatever, we'll do anything, everything we can..."

Phoebe put her head in her hands at this point and the only sound in room for the next few moments was her ragged breathing. Finally she spoke.

"If the child is... his... it could be our salvation. How could I kill that? And if it's his the child could also be our doom. Then how could I not?"

"Oh, to be Solomon," Dumbledore said sadly, "I don't have his wisdom, but I am wise enough to know that a decision should not be made tonight."

"I know," Phoebe said, with a touch of bitterness, "but I don't think I stand this uncertainty much longer."

"You are not alone, child," Dumbledore said gently. But instead of looking at Albus, Phoebe turned her eyes to Severus.

"No," Severus agreed, "You're not."

"I think it time for me to take my leave," Dumbledore said softly, "But I am available, Phoebe." With that Dumbledore raised his wand and disappeared from sight. "Good night." his voice said from the seemingly empty space where he had been. His robes could be heard rustling toward the door which opened and then shut again. Severus and Phoebe were alone.

"I suppose he felt like he needed a walk," Phoebe said awkwardly.

"Phoebe..." Severus started, then faltered. Phoebe winced slightly, and her eyes reminded Severus of those of a wounded animal: afraid, hunted. Suddenly she turned away.

"It's fine Severus if you want to go," she said in a hard voice, "I certainly understand how this must change things for you."

"Not in the way you think," he said.

"If only I could believe that," she whispered, "but even I can't get past how vile I-"

Severus rose swiftly and grasped her arms to turn her around, with a desperate expression on his face. Weeks earlier Phoebe might have given anything to have him holding her so intently, so desperately. Now she just felt trapped. She began to pull away but his grip did not lessen.

"No, please! Let go!" she cried out, eyes wild with fear. Severus let go as if he had been electrocuted. 

"I didn't think, I'm so sorry!" he said, reaching out his hand then drawing it back.

Phoebe had crossed her arms and hunched into herself. "Just go." she said quietly.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. I'm not sure I can leave you alone."

She let out a bark of harsh laughter. "You can't leave me alone, now? Severus it's too damn late."

Stung by her words, Severus moved slowly to the door. He put his hand on the door knob and paused. Without turning he said, "I didn't know. Don't you think if I knew I would have..." He found himself unable to finish, opening the door and leaving instead.

"That's not what I meant," Phoebe said softly to the closed door, but she did not go after him. She simply stood there, trapped by misery and self loathing.


	11. Invisible Safety Nets?

"I Can't Let You Love Me" Chapter 11: Invisible Safety Nets?  
  


Severus woke at three in the morning with the terrible sense that something was wrong. With instinct born from too many years, his right hand flew to his left forearm where the dark mark lay. No, it wasn't burning... not even a twinge. What, then? It all came back to him in a rush that was like being plunged into icy water. Pregnant. Phoebe was pregnant. She had been... Those foul monsters had...

And it was all his fault. He had tried to keep her safe, to shield her but pushing her away. Instead he had pushed her straight into the arms of the Death Eaters and Voldemort on some reckless, ill-conceived mission to speed his downfall. It had been something too foolish and too frightening for her to contemplate until he'd broken her heart. Then, what had she said? She had nothing left to lose. 

She'd discovered she had more to lose than she thought and now even she blamed him. "It's too damn late for that Severus!" Her words had lashed into him like a whip. If he had been at a loss to deal with the situation before... Now what? He wanted to fold her into his arms and find a way to shelter her, to make it better. But, even if that were possible or wise, things just didn't work that way. He knew that. Besides, her feelings for him had probably been burned away when the Dark Mark had been charred on her arm. They were fellow spies now, nothing more.

He would have to find a way to deal with the terrible rage and guilt and despair and... all the terrible feelings that were churning around inside him. He'd have to do this alone, and quickly. Her life probably depended on clear thinking and smart decisions right now. Unfortunately smart decisions would be very hard to come by in this situation. Severus thought even Solomon might find this an impossible challenge.

He put his head in his hands. Ceridwen's Cauldron, his head hurt! He pushed himself out of bed and padded into his bathroom to the cabinet where he stored several potions and remedies. He needed a headache potion. As he scanned the shelf he saw the bottle of dreamless sleep potion he'd been giving Phoebe. She hadn't asked for it tonight. It had taken him hours to drop off ... had she even been able to fall asleep? Perhaps if he knocked softly on her door so as not to awaken her if she had fallen asleep? 

No. If she'd wanted the potion she would have come to get it as usual. No use thinking up excuses to see her when she clearly didn't want to see him. Severus sighed and tipped back a bottle of headache potion without bothering to pour the solution into a glass. He grimaced at the bitter taste of the potion, which was usually diluted in water, and looked up at himself in the mirror. Pale as a ghost, dark as a bat, and sour as an old ghoul. He really had been a fool to push her away. Who else would care about him? 

It was no good. He wouldn't be falling back to sleep tonight. He reached for his toothbrush and began to get ready to face what promised to be an incredibly long day. 

He emerged at the top of the astronomy tower about forty five minutes later and regarded the early morning sky. Although it was still dark, it had gone from inky black to blue-black. Severus closed his eyes and tipped his head back and let the cool night air play over his face wishing it could cool his spirit the way it cooled his skin. After a few moments he opened his eyes again and moved toward the edge of the tower. He put his hands on the cold stone and leaned out over the battlements, looking at the sharp stone on the ground far below. There were many reasons this tower was out of bounds to students apart from lessons. One of them was the certain death that would follow anyone slipping over the edge. 

He had known that as a student. Perhaps that is why he had spent many melancholy hours up here in the dead of night back then. He liked the dark, the isolation, and having death close at hand. Without giving it too much thought, Severus stepped up onto the stone wall where a battlement formed a niche between the higher stones to either side. The ground seemed even farther down and the fall steeper when he stood there with his hands resting lightly on the taller stones to either side. He moved closer to the edge so that the toes of his boots were only just on the stone instead of the empty space beyond. He folded his arms and closed his eyes, standing quite still. 

When he had done this as a boy he had not been still at all. He had been trembling ...trembling with fear, with anger, with grief, and with memories. Memories haunted him tonight, as well, but he had learned long ago to control them, keep them at bay, to stand still. He opened his eyes and tipped his head back again to look at the stars still winking clearly in the slowly lightening sky. He sighed. Put one hand on the stones again, and turned around.

He was very glad he had laid a hand on the stones to steady himself, for he nearly started out of his skin when he turned. There was a figure standing in the darkness, watching him. He hid his surprise and stepped calmly down off the wall.

"Returning to your old haunts, I see," came a venerable and knowing voice. Albus.

"Old haunts?" Severus said, playing dumb.

"Well, Severus, you are the reason we installed the invisible safety net all those years ago."

"Pardon?"

"I didn't think you would hurl yourself off the tower, myself. Professor Celestine, however, wasn't convinced."

"So you knew?"

"Yes."

"And you did nothing?" Severus asked not sure if he was more incredulous at the lack of punishment or the lack of intervention.

"On the contrary, Professor McGonagall and I kept watch over you, invisibly, the nights you came here. You may recall that we constantly - what was the phrase you used then? Ah, yes, we constantly 'pestered' you about how you were feeling, if you wanted to talk..."

"Didn't get anywhere, did you?"

"Not then. I'm hoping I have better luck now."

"I'm not sure what there is to say."

"There is much, and you have left most of it unsaid since three weeks ago when Phoebe returned from Voldemort. Even before then."

Severus raked his fingers through his hair, pulling rather a bit too hard, but somehow glad for the tiny bits of sharp pain. "Albus, I appear to have made a grand mess of things, and yet I'm not sure what I should have done differently."

"You have no ideas on what you might change were it in your power?"

"I wouldn't have let my guard down. I wouldn't have indulged my feelings. I certainly wouldn't have let them show. If only I hadn't let her know that I cared!"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Severus, I don't think 'indulging' your feelings is a mistake," he said, gently, "In fact, your denying them is what I would change if I could."

Severus realized his fists were clenched and his body tense as he tried not to believe what Dumbledore was saying ...as he tried not to ask him what he wanted to know. Suddenly, he found himself sinking to the cold stones and putting his face in his hands as something in him seemed to snap in two. He pressed his hands to his face trying to hold in the storm of misery and pain that was fighting to escape him. Dumbledore had crouched down in front of him and Severus felt the older man put his arms around him and pull him forward until he was leaning against Albus' shoulder.

Much to his surprise and secret shame Severus felt not a howl but a gasping torrent of uncontrolled bitter tears begin to flow from him as Albus rocked him and patted his back like ... a child. A long buried part of Severus recognized this new and strange thing as what a parent might do to comfort a weeping child It was strange and Severus The Man who had spent the decades of his life not needing anyone or anything thought he should pull away, but he could not muster the resolve to do so.

When he was finally able to take more than one shuddering breath between sobs he looked up and noticed that the sky had changed to navy blue and that Albus had somehow moved them so that their backs leaned against the tower walls. Albus kept one arm around the younger man's shoulders as Severus sat up and leaned heavily against the wall, drained, yet still miserable.

"I'm sorry Albus," He said in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Why?"

"I shouldn't have. I couldn't help it but, still. So unprofessional-"

"Severus, you are my friend and I care about you. I am most certainly NOT sorry. I'm glad I'm here." Albus squeezed Severus' shoulder and Severus felt his composure wobble.

He let his head fall back against the stone with a muffled thud, "Albus I don't know what to do, what to think, what to feel. It's hell."

"What DO you feel?"

"Ptolemy's Ghost, Albus," he breathed, looking fixedly at the sky, "I love her. I actuallylove her and I don't know how it happened."

"It just does."

"And now... Now I don't know how to help her and it's killing me, and I think I may have driven her away, and I feel that this is all my fault, and I want to kill them with my bare hands... very slowly and very, very painfully."

"I understand completely."

"You?"

"Yes. My failure to act on such feelings toward Voldemort and his followers does not mean I don't have them."

"Albus,"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared. I'm scared of what this will do to her, what they will do to her, I... I..." Severus trailed off as tears began to slide down his face again.

"Severus, I wish I could tell you there is no reason to be afraid, but I cannot. I will tell you that you are not alone in this and neither is Phoebe."

"I'm grateful to you Albus, I am."

"Of course, I am here for you both. But I wasn't speaking of myself. You do have each other and it's time you both acknowledged that."

"Albus, I'm not sure. You know I would have gladly stepped off the edge of this wall tonight... after removing that net I just found out about... for her. But I'm afraid that she... Albus it's my fault. How can she not hate me?"

"I disagree about the fault lying entirely with you and I suspect Phoebe does, too. In any case, that question is one best put to Phoebe."

Severus suddenly had a flash of the humor that surprises us in dark moments. "I guess we could both blame you," He said.

"Ah, indeed, I did have the complete lack of foresight to hire her, didn't I?" Albus said with a small smile in his voice. "Very well, I accept the blame. This situation is entirely my fault. Now go and talk to her or I'll remove that net and not tell you."

A new question suddenly occurred to Severus. "How did you know I was up here tonight?"

"I preformed a modest little charm many years ago when I learned you were haunting the highest tower to alert me on the nights you came up here. I was rather surprised tonight, to discover that it still works." Albus said as he rose to his feet and held out a hand to Severus.

When Severus rose, Albus surprised him with a quick hug, "I'm here for you children, now go be there for her." he said before sweeping quietly away.


	12. Plenty of Blame to Go Around

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 12: Plenty of Blame to Go Around

  
  


"Go and be there for her." Albus had told him, but it was easier said than done. In fact, Severus mused, it might be the penultimate example of "easier said than done." How could he face her? How could he risk her hatred, her rejection ... her blame. Ah, there was the rub, he didn't actually need her blame him; he already blamed himself. 

Severus paused at the top of the steps leading to the dungeons. It would be sunrise soon. The only sunrises he had seen in the last two decades had been the ones that snuck up on the Death Eaters. Sunrise isn't welcome when you've just participated or witnessed the vile crimes Death Eaters participate in. No, sunrise is an unwelcome light shining on your dark deeds, not something to be savoured or enjoyed 

Turning, Severus headed for the large front doors of the castle. Soon he was settled on the front steps to watching for the sun to come up over the Forbidden Forest. As he watched the sky went from navy, to deep, to royal blue. It began to turn a smoky light blue colour just as golds and pinks and purples began to shoot from the horizon. Just as the sky was becoming suffused with the rich hues, Severus heard one of the doors behind him open and the sound of a gasp.

He was on his feet and turned around in a split second. Standing before him was, of all people, Harry Potter. "Dammit," thought Severus, "I don't have the energy to deal with the boy right now." Still, energy or no, Snape always did what was required.

"Potter!" he snapped at the wide eyed boy, "What are you doing wandering about at this hour?"

The boy gave a small shake of his head, obviously stunned to find the professor here. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, "I couldn't sleep anymore so I thought I'd take a walk before breakfast."

"Couldn't sleep?" Snape asked scornfully (even as he realized being ill to Potter came a bit too naturally)

"Yes, Professor. Quidditch Match today," colour rose a bit in Potter face and he looked down before admitting, "I'm a bit nervous."

"Potter, as you're playing Hufflepuff, I find that hard to believe." 

Potter looked at him for a moment, bit his lip, and admitted, "I'm always a bit nervous, sir."

Why had Potter admitted that to him? It was unlike him. Had he just been caught off guard? Snape sighed loudly and rubbed his forehead.

"Alright, then," he said wearily, "Lets just take five points off Gryffindor because I'm an unfair git and if anyone asks you I gave you a humiliating tongue lashing."

Potter's mouth had popped open.

"Close your mouth, Harry, you'll catch flies," Snape said in the same weary voice, "I would appreciate it if you could complain loudly about my unfair treatment within earshot of Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle. In fact, do so or I will offer to officiate at the next Quidditch match." With that Snape swept past Harry into the castle, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Well, the boy already knew they were on the same side. If he hadn't figured it out already it was about time he knew what was really going on. Severus just hoped Harry's reactions remained convincing. It was important that outside observers think he and the boy despised one another. Well, he'd just have to give Harry plenty of motivation to work from. 

Snape walked up to the second floor landing and leaned against the window sill of the trio of gothic windows which overlooked the lake and forest. The sunrise was still pretty impressive, but he had lost his enthusiasm for it. He stood there anyway -procrastinating - until there was only a hint of golden pink left in the morning sky. 

At last he decided he ought to head back down to the dungeons lest Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger pop up. Merlin only knew how early that girl got up to study and he really was too tired to face yet another member of the threesome. 

The torches in the dungeon had been magically extinguished but the corridor was still a bit dark. It was easy, therefore, to see light coming from beneath Phoebe's door. He stopped and raised his hand to knock, then lowered it. He moved quietly into his own quarters, instead. He busied himself with making tea and found himself putting a second cup and saucer on the tea tray. It seemed his hands were a few paces ahead of his mind this morning. 

Steeling his resolve, Severus picked up the tray and headed back out his door to knock on Phoebe's. There was no sound for several moments and Severus wondered if Phoebe had finally gone to sleep, when the door opened. It didn't look as if she had slept. She looked pale and incredibly weary. She stood there for a moment, then motioned him in. Severus put the tea tray down of the table in front of the couch upon whose edge Phoebe had perched nervously.

"I brought a peace offering of sorts," he explained awkwardly as he sat on one of the chairs and began to pour. Phoebe accepted her cup with a nod of thanks, keeping her silence. If only he knew what to say or how to begin... the silence was so oppressive it seemed to be sucking all the oxygen out of the air.

Finally, he found himself blurting out the last thing he actually wanted to say, "You hate me now, don't you?"

"No," she said flatly, "I don't hate you, Severus. Life would be a lot simpler if I did, but I don't."

"But you do blame me," Severus said with courage he didn't think he possessed.

"No."

"But last night you said-"

"I know what I said, and I know what I meant. You, apparently, don't," she snapped.

"What?"

"I meant it was too late because I'd already made my stupid decisions and gotten myself into this stupid mess. You had very little to do with it, in fact."

"I'm not entirely sure that's true."

"Yes you are."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She set her teacup down with a sharp clank. "Oh, come on, Severus, admit it!"

"Admit what? What are you talking about?"

She looked at him, eyes blazing, "You don't blame yourself, you blame me."

"Of course not, I-"

"Don't lie to me, Severus."

"I'm not. I would never-"

"Alright, then, don't lie to yourself. Severus you are an intelligent man, how could you not blame me for creating this mess? You warned me, I did it anyway. You were F-ing Bloody right, Severus!" She was on her feet, yelling now, "I didn't have a clue what I was in for! I didn't care! If you don't blame me you're a fool and an idiot!"

Severus had risen to his feet as well and now he stood, stunned. He was stunned, not so much by her words, but by her accuracy. She was right, off the mark a bit, but right. He didn't blame her but he was angry, terribly, terribly angry with her.

"Dammit, you bastard, admit it." she snarled.

"I don't blame you," he said very clearly and carefully. He held up his hand to stop her from interrupting. "No, it's my turn, Phoebe. I don't blame you for the actions of men I know are evil. But, Ptolemy's Ghost, I AM angry with you! I probably shouldn't be, but I am so very angry." Severus looked away at this, ashamed.

She sank back down on the couch and put her head in her hands. Her voice was muffled when she spoke, "Well, at least we've got that in common." Severus moved to the couch and sat carefully next to her. He didn't know what to say or what to do. 

"Severus," she said her voice still muffled by her hands, "I'm sorry."

"Phoebe, look at me," Severus said. Phoebe's head remained in her hands. Carefully he reached over and gently put his hands around her wrists pulling them lightly until she let him move her hands away from her face. She looked at him but her eyes seemed lost in a whirl of self-loathing and hopelessness. 

"Don't apologize, it makes me feel like a total bastard," he said. "Besides, I contributed to our little problem myself." Phoebe dropped her hands to her lap, looking skeptical. 

"Please, forgive me. Let me forgive you. I don't care!" Severus finally said, feeling totally vulnerable and completely petrified. 

"I'll work on it," Phoebe finally said.

"I need a stronger promise from you," Severus said, surprising himself, "Promise you'll find a way. I'm afraid if you don't we're both lost."

Phoebe looked at him, confusion playing across her features, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You know Voldemort's plan is to play us off one another, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, that's what I used to get them to let me in."

"If we cannot mend this we won't just be weakened from the emotional blow, Phoebe. The mistrust and hurt that stands between us could cost either of us our lives. I don't care too much, personally, but..."

"Is that the only reason you came? To fix this so we won't endanger one another's lives?" Phoebe said softly.

"No."

"Why then?"

"Because..." Severus trailed off. He wanted to say "because I need to be here for you" or "because I love you" but the words were strange to his tongue and didn't seem to want to be said. He felt his hand trembling and let it rise toward Phoebe's face... again his hands obeyed the subconscious mind which was far ahead of the conscious. She watched the hand move toward her and closed her eyes and he gently touched her cheek. When she didn't pull away, he put his other hand to her face and turned her head. 

"Because," he said, again, and he found his lips on hers. She shook just a bit but did not pull away. She returned his tender kiss with a fierceness that surprised him and left a strange sensation in his stomach.

When they parted she looked at him with anxiety in her eyes and Severus thought he knew what she was worried about. Would he get up and leave as he had every other time? It was tempting, to be sure. This whole conversation scared him out of his wits. But he didn't want to go. So he pulled her next to him so her head rested on his shoulder. Her hand reached for his and they sat that way, without a word, for some time. Both wished they could stay and live in that moment instead of going on to face the decisions that had to be made. But all too soon, they knew, they would have to face the harsh realities of their situation.


	13. All Too Soon

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 13

  
  


Phoebe knew it was too good to last, this sitting quietly leaning against him, with his arm around her. All too soon, it seemed, there was a knock on her door. With a sigh she untangled herself from Severus and rose to admit Albus Dumbledore. A variety of emotions seemed to pass over the older wizard's face as he looked searchingly first at Phoebe then at Severus.

"I am glad to see you here, Severus," he finally said warmly as he accepted the chair Phoebe offered. 

Phoebe returned to the couch but this time sat without touching Severus. He noted that she had wrapped her arms rather tightly about herself and that her jaw was set. He wanted to say something, but couldn't think what.

"Phoebe," Dumbledore began gently, "How are you feeling?"

"Like hell, and you Albus?" 

A ghost of a smile crossed Severus' face, but he held his expression in check.

"I, my dear, am most anxious," Dumbledore said, "About a number of things, not least of which is you."

Phoebe coloured a bit, regretting her sharp retort. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, "I'm... Well I don't know but it's not my usual self."

"Understandable, given the current situation," Dumbledore replied evenly, "Have you given much thought to what you wish to do?"

Phoebe resisted the urge to laugh. "Oh, yes, I've given it plenty of thought. I can hardly think of anything else, can I?" she said bitterly.

Dumbledore leaned forward to place a fatherly hand on Phoebe's knee. She flinched sharply at the unexpected touch then sat perfectly still for a second. "Sorry." she said softly, eyes downcast.

Dumbledore lifted his hand carefully, eyes clouded. "There is no reason you should be sorry," he said gently.

Still Severus said nothing. Damn, he felt so inadequate in this situation! He cursed inwardly, once more, at the part of himself that had let his guard down in the first place. Even Phoebe would be better off if he hadn't...

He was pulled from his thoughts by Phoebe's words.

"I'm no closer to figuring out what I need to do than I was," she said wearily, "I'm not sure I can decide on my own."

"What you need to do, child?" Albus questioned, "Ah, but what do you want to do?"

"You've already asked me that and my answer hasn't changed," Phoebe noted dully, "I want to cast this thing out of me now. Yesterday. Last week. But I'm not sure I even can. Then, again, I'm not sure I can't."

Dumbledore nodded and said nothing, allowing Phoebe to continue, to get it out.

"It's not a simple question in any case," she said now twisting her hands in her lap, "but this makes it all the more difficult. Then a part of me asks if a child has any less right to live just because it might be Malfoy's or ...his. I can't answer that because I'm afraid of what the child is, what it will become. This may sound foolish, I don't know. I've been wondering what Hitler or Grindelwald's mothers would have done if they had known what the children they were carrying would become. Would they assume the evil was inevitable? Some would say that it was."

"We have no way of knowing," Dumbledore said.

"No, we don't. But if there is even a chance that this child could grow to become the plague that destroys humankind... and we all know that's what Voldemort will do given a chance... then do I have a right to indulge in maternal hopes?" Phoebe pounded her fist into the couch angrily, "And who the hell appointed me God that I should be trying to decide whether another being lives, anyway?"

Phoebe's words echoed away into silence which stretched out for several minutes. Finally it was Severus who spoke hating every word he said, "Phoebe I don't think it is in you to terminate this pregnancy." He wanted to tell her to do it, to get down to the Doctor in Hogsmeade and terminate. But he couldn't. "I don't think you can live with executing the life of something that you feel may yet be innocent."

"No," Phoebe's voice was husky, "but can I live with not having done it if our worst fears are true?"

"We will simply do the very best we can, in any case," Dumbledore said firmly.

Phoebe suddenly looked up into his eyes, hers wide with something near panic, "I won't raise this child, I- I just can't!" she said. "You'll have to find someone absolutely trustworthy to raise the child and keep secret who its parents are."

"I am able to do this Phoebe." Dumbledore said simply.

"Are you able to hide the fact that I'm pregnant from Voldemort and the Death Eaters? I can wear loose robes but that will stop working after a time. I mean, even if by some miracle I'm not called to a meeting in the last few months, people here at the castle will notice. Young Master Malfoy is sure to pass along the latest gossip to dear old dad." Her voice had quavered at the last and Pheobe swallowed hard trying not to be nauseous. 

"A glamour* should take care of Hogwarts, but I'm afraid some Death Eaters would see through the projected image. Certainly Voldemort himself isn't likely to be fooled," Severus said thoughtfully, "I'll have to do some research."

[*A/N: a glamour or glamourie is an image which is magically projected to fool another. A witch can put on a glamour, for instance, to make herself appear as an old woman]

Dumbledore sighed, "I should go, it would not due for me to be seen spending too much time around Voldemort's newest recruit." He rose and held his hands out to Phoebe. She very gingerly put hers in his. She was so skittish now, and Dumbledore was worried by the change. He squeezed her hands warmly and turned to go.

Phoebe stood watching the door with her back to Severus for several moments. She was fighting the urge to break down like a small child. Oh, how she wanted to! But she knew she could not. She had to keep herself together... if not for her sake for Dumbledore and Severus'. Severus' life already hung in the balance of trust versus mistrust with the Death Eaters. Albus, who fought not for himself but for them all... he stood to lose everything. Damn! She had been a foolish idiot.

Finally, she said, "Severus, you'd better go and get yourself together. You don't want to be seen missing the Quidditch match." Her tone was flat, but firm.

Severus felt that going now probably wasn't the best thing but he didn't know what else to do, so he rose from the couch and walked over to her.

"Phoebe?" he asked.

She closed her eyes. "Yes, Severus?"

"I, well, will you be alright?"

"Of course." she said opening her eyes and leveling her gaze at him, "Just go, it's fine."

Severus brushed her lips with a soft kiss and was gone. 

Phoebe immediately went to her washroom and turned on the hot water spigot. When steam was coming off the water flowing from it, she filled the tub with scalding water. She took fresh cake of soap and a scrub brush and lowered herself in. 

As students and staff were beginning to stream toward the Quidditch Pitch, Phoebe was trying, yet again, to scrub away the feeling of filth that had plagued her for the last several weeks.


	14. Venenum

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 14

  
  


[Dr. Jeffrey Barnes and his father, James, are the creation of Raven Dancer. Raven owns them. They have come out to play in my story with her kind permission.]

  
  


The Qudditch game had actually been better than Severus anticipated. As usual, Gryffindor's team was better than Hufflepuff's but this game was made enjoyable by the fact that the Golden Snitch had been particularly elusive. It had taken Potter forever to pull off the inevitable capture. 

Severus kept the look of disgust on his face all the way back to the castle and into his quarters. There, tossing off his cloak he permitted himself the merest hint of a smile. Nervous, indeed. Well he'd still managed to pull it off, hadn't he? Severus didn't know whether to feel pride or exasperation. Putting the question aside he tossed a pinch of Floo in the fireplace and said "Phoebe!" as he stepped in.

As he stepped out into her small quarters things seemed rather unnaturally still. "Phoebe?" he called uncertainly, "Phoebe, are you here?" No answer. He looked around. Not in bedroom, loo, or office. He didn't like that. Oh Blast, he was just being irrational! She'd probably gone up to the Great Hall for lunch. 

Severus flooed back across to his own quarters and headed out into the corridor to go up to the great hall. She wasn't at the staff table. Severus turned immediately around and left. Dumbledore frowned slightly as he saw this but said nothing. 

Severus checked the library, the staff room, her classrooms, and her quarters (again). Phoebe wasn't there. To hell with it. So what if he was a bit paranoid. He needed to see Dumbledore. 

When he emerged into the headmaster's offices Dumbledore spoke immediately, "You didn't find her, then?"

At this point in their association Severus didn't even pause to wonder how Dumbledore knew. "No I didn't." he answered tersely.

"I took the liberty of discreetly having the grounds checked after you left the Great Hall. She is not there, either."

Severus found a chair and sank down into it. "She's been called then, to meet Voldemort." he said heavily.

"So it would seem," Dumbledore answered gravely.

"And it's not a full meeting since I was not also called," Severus said, his voice strained, "Ptolemy's Ghost I hope it's not a private meeing!" A small tremor was just visible in Snape's hands as he said this.

The older wizard moved around to place a hand on the younger one's arm. "All we can do is wait, Severus."

"Terrific" Severus responded very flatly.

  
  


++++

  
  


When Phoebe returned to the apparation point in the Forbidden Forest she turned not for the castle, but for Hogsmeade. The meeting with Voldemort, Malfoy, and the sniveling little Wormtail had been pointless and sickening... literally. A few minutes after she had arrived she felt the first of what would be seemingly endless waves of nausea. For what? She wondered. They wanted a status report. She had nothing to tell them. After all, only one thing had changed and she'd be dammed before she'd tell them that.

The walk to Hogsmeade was slow going. She had to stop several times to be physically ill and more than a few times just to lean against a tree and ride out the grinding pains in her stomach and lower abdomen. She was sure she must have been cursed by a death eater at the meeting. Since Voldemort was hardly shy about flinging curses about, it was likely Malfoy or Wormtail. If she had to wager she'd put her money on Wormtail.

The walk was beginning to feel endless and a small part of her wished she'd gone to the castle, instead. In her condition, however, she couldn't go to Pomfrey and risk the nurse discovering her secret. She'd have to go the Healer in Hogsmeade. When she finally stumbled to the edge of town twilight was gathering quickly. Now where was the healer's office? Oh yes...

Lights were burning in a single room of the healer's clinic when Phoebe finally managed to stumble to the door and knock. Damn! Whoever had thrown that curse was good. The healer, Dr. Jeffrey Barnes, opened the door, eyes first curious then concerned. Phoebe didn't have much time to register anything else. As she tried to step over the threshold she found her legs giving way. Fortunately, the healer was an experienced hand at catching sick and fainting wizards and witches. It came with the territory.

Jeffrey Barnes and his father, James, were both full Healers, a valued commodity in the wizarding world. Beside having the normal skills and qualifications and potions of a magical doctor they also has the ability to project themselves into a patient, to observe every system and function. They could also transfer healing energy into patient. Usually a healer conducted a physical exam and spoke with the patient before "going in." But Jeff Barnes needed to find out what was wrong right now. He placed his hands on the unconscious woman before him and poured his consciousness into her.

Forty five minutes later Jeff Barnes was reflecting that the situation before him certainly was not one that came with the territory. The woman before him was very ill, and yet she had no illness... no virus, no infection. Furthermore, he had thoroughly checked her for curses and she wasn't clear. She WAS pregnant but this was no morning sickness. He was fairly sure the problem centered around the pregnancy, however. But that was only the beginning. He'd read use of the cruciatus curse, several times, probably no more than a month before. There were several other injuries... mostly healed... from about that time.

He'd only had one other patient who managed to sustain several serious injuries aside from having endured the cruciatus curse at the same time the injuries were sustained. Just one other and unless he was mistaken... Jeffrey Barnes lifted the unconscious woman's left wrist and pulled her sleeve back. He saw the Dark Mark outlined in charred black. Right then, but whose side was she on? He didn't know this woman personally, but he knew her on sight to be a teacher up at Hogwarts. 

What, exactly, was going on?

As his patient slipped from unconsciousness into an uneasy sleep he walked to his desk to write a note to send to Albus Dumbledore. He needed to speak with the Headmaster immediately about what he had discovered. In any case, whichever side she was on, this woman would NOT be returning to Hogwarts tonight. She was too ill.

  
  


+++++

Severus was pacing sharply when the owl came and pushed its way in through a window that had been left slightly ajar. It flew over to Dumbledore, dropped a note, and flew away again, not waiting for a reply.

Severus watched tensely as Albus unfolded the short note and read it quickly, his brows furrowing together.

"Well?" the younger man asked impatiently

"Phoebe is at the clinic in Hogsmeade. This note says she is too ill to return to Hogwarts this evening." Dumbledore said, obviously trying to fit this new piece into the picture.

"You don't think she went there for a termination, do you?" Severus asked, unsure of whether or not he should hope she had.

"I don't know, Severus," Dumbledore conceded thoughtfully, "Although it certainly shouldn't have taken this long to send us word if she had and were suffering some ill effects. In any case Dr. Barnes asks me to come and speak with him as soon as possible."

"I'm going with you."

"I know."

  
  


+++++++

Jeffrey didn't seem surprised to see Dumbledore but he did raise his eyebrows ever so slightly when he saw Snape. He took in Snapes drawn face and worried expression before the man rushed past him to go to the patient. The healer watched him for a moment doing some mental math. It was clear to him Severus cared for the woman... very much. Who would have thought it? He had to wonder if Severus was the father of the child. That would be amazing... and could be quite devastating if she were on the Dark Side.

"Is she asleep?" Snape asked, concerned.

"After a fashion. I've given her several potions and she won't awaken for some time." The Healer conceded.

Dumbledore spoke, "Thank you for caring for Professor Taylor, Jeffrey."

"Ah, Taylor," Jeffrey said, moving to his desk to jot the name down. He looked up, "First name, please?"

"Phoebe," Dumbledore supplied, "Jeffrey, may I ask what's going on?"

Jeffrey hesitated, eyes moving to Snape.

"Professor Snape has my complete confidence in this matter."

The Healer sighed and began, "Professor Taylor came here about two hours ago, violently ill, weak, and in pain. She indicated she thought she might have been cursed. She has not been cursed, I checked most thoroughly. She is also not suffering from any virus or other infection." The Healer paused here looking swiftly from one man to the next. As it was he was probably revealing more about her condition than he should without her consent. Would she want Dumbledore knowing about her pregnancy?

"There are some other, ah, considerations that I explored," he began tentatively.

"Her pregnancy." Snape said. Dumbledore did not react to these words, merely looking at the healer to continue. Ah, so he knew.

"Yes, but this illness is not the proverbial 'morning sickness.'"

"Well, what IS it, then?" Snape asked sharply.

"I'm not prepared to make a definative diagnosis."

"What do you surmise is possible?" Dumbledore asked.

"I suspect it may have something to do with the pregnancy. It's almost as if she were toxic to it or it to her... but I'm not prepared to say just yet. I need more time and a second opinion from my father wouldn't hurt, either."

Severus and Albus' eyes met. Albus' eyes had a great sadness in them as, Severus suspected, did his own. If the pregnancy was toxic then it seemed more likely than ever it was Voldemort's child. He and Albus needed to talk... most likely out of the healer's earshot.

Dumbledore sighed heavily, then took Severus by surprise.

"Jeffrey, we need to take you into our confidence."

The healer nodded, "I was rather hoping you would. I assume this has something to do with that mark burned on her left forearem?"

Neither Dumbledore nor Snape looked shocked in the least at Jeffrey's mention of the Dark Mark. So, they knew. Interesting.

"It has everything to do with the mark," Dumbledore said.

"Would I be foolish to hope that, like Professor Snape here, she's one of our own?"

"You would not," Dumbledore conceded with a hint of a smile at the phrase "one of our own." One of our own, indeed. How often had Jeff been summoned to the castle to care for Severus after he returned, injured as usual, from a mission of spying on Voldemort? 

"Professor Taylor has recently been initiated into the ranks of the Death Eaters where she is acting as one of our spies," Dumbledore said as the healer nodded. "Her initiation several weeks ago was conducted primarily by Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy. They were rather brutal..." 

Grim comprehension crossed Dr. Barnes' face, "I had hoped I was wrong about that."

"I'm afraid not." Dumbledore said heavily.

"Is that the origin of the pregnancy, then?" Barnes asked gently, stealing a glance at Severus as he did so. The wizard turned his face away.

"Yes, it is." Dumbledore said flatly.

Several emotions struggled for dominance on the healer's face, among them anger and concern. The healer turned his eyes to a very unhappy Professor Snape, "Severus, I'm sorry," he said. 

"Why?"

"I just am," Jeffrey said. He then turned and began to pace. Severus watched him for a moment. Was it that obvious that he cared for Phoebe? To Jeff it must be, but then the healer was rather perceptive. Severus sighed and went to sit by Phoebe's bed. Dumbledore remained standing, calmly regarding the healer, waiting. Finally Jeff stopped pacing.

"This answers a lot of questions. Unfortunately the answers aren't very good. It seems rather a bit more likely that there is something very wrong with the pregnancy... especially given the chance Voldemort is..." a quick glance at Snape, "Well, there is a very good chance it can't be sustained and that is what is making her ill. There is also the possibility that the pregnancy itself isn't at risk but that it is toxic to her.

"I can't say just yet. I'll need more time. In any case, she's not going anywhere tonight or tomorrow, either. Headmaster, I think you'd be wise to get her Monday classes covered." the Healer finished.

"Indeed," Dumbledore commented thoughtfully. "I shall get her classes covered through the week. I will be back tomorrow. Meanwhile, send word if things change."

The healer nodded.

"Severus?" Dumbledore said gently, "We have to go. It wouldn't do for you to be seen loitering about here considering you two have convinced Voldemort you despise one another."

"How'd they do that?" Jeffrey asked, surprised, before he could stop himself. To him it had been obvious the minute Severus walked in the room that Phoebe was his overwhelming concern, that he cared.

"Oh," Snape said in an empty tone as he rose, "It's never hard to convince people I despise someone. I'm rather good at it." With a glance back at Phoebe, Snape was gone, Dumbledore at his heels. 

Jeffrey shut the door and watched their progress up the street through his window. After a few moments he lost sight of them in the deepening dark and took out his wand to begin putting protection charms around the clinic ...just in case.


	15. Wednesday's Child is full of woe

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 15

  
  


On Wednesday Phoebe was still at the clinic and still quite ill. She was no longer vomiting mostly because she refused to eat. The pain, however, remained. Much of the time she was "out of it" under the influence of one pain potion or other. However, she had been lucid long and often enough for Jeff Barnes to explain the situation to her.

The news that morning had not been good. James Barnes had conducted a thorough exam and agreed with his son: the pregnancy was malformed but it was not terminating on its own. Phoebe was ill because the pregnancy was toxic to her. She could go on for a while, but the toxic nature of the pregnancy would eventually endanger her life. 

"So it's kill or be killed, is that what you're saying?" Phoebe commented in an attempt at dry wit.

"After a fashion. Phoebe neither of you will survive this pregnancy, it will kill you long before the baby would be viable." Jeffrey explained carefully.

"Well, it's not as if I'm desperate to save the baby." Phoebe said, a note of self disgust in her voice.

"If you don't feel desperate, what do you feel?" Jeff asked gently

Phoebe sighed, "I'm relieved. I'm relieved it has to be ended. But somehow that makes me feel like.... like..."

"A horrible person?"

"Yes," she said, looking down.

"I don't think it makes you a horrible person at all. I think what you're feeling is natural, normal, expected. In fact, I think its pretty damn extraordinary that you were even willing to consider keeping the baby considering."

Phoebe closed in on herself and looked away at this. "Considering..." she said softly, turning her back on Barnes to stare at the wall.

  
  


By Wednesday, of course, the news that one of the teachers was so sick they weren't in the hospital wing but were at the clinic in town had made it to Lucius Malfoy, via his son, Draco. Malfoy was very, very interested when he discovered just who that teacher was.

While Phoebe and Jeffrey Barnes were talking in the clinic Malfoy was making his oily presence known in the headmaster's office. He made some small talk about visiting his son while in the area and did some fishing about how things were going at the school. Given their mutual history, Malfoy wasn't surprised he got nowhere with Dumbledore. Not that there weren't other avenues. 

  
  


Snapes eyes glittered sharply at Lucius as he strode into the Potion Master's office. How Severus wanted to wrap his hands around Malfoy's filthy neck! He wanted to grind the bastard's face into the floor and beat him nearly senseless before killing him. But he could do no such thing. In fact, he was cursed to have to treat Malfoy well. Fortunately, Snape wasn't very conversational under normal circumstances so Malfoy wasn't suspicious at his sharp, terse, answers. By the time Malfoy got around to asking about Phoebe Snape was ready with an appropriately sneering answer. 

"The old fool has been worse than closed mouthed about the whole thing as has the dammed healer. But she can't stay in town forever," Snape said his stomach turning but his face maintaining the sneer, "When she comes back to the castle it is only a matter of time before I discover what is going on."

"The Dark Lord will want to know why you didn't report this, Snape," Lucius said icily

"I did not because I have nothing to report as yet," Snape snapped. "What there is to know you know from Draco as I knew you would. Why take the risk of contacting you when I knew your son would?"

Lucius spent some more time making sure there was nothing more he could learn from Snape before he left the castle... without visiting his son.

Snape sat slowly down after Malfoy left his office looking down at his shaking hands. He clenched and unclenched them several times which slowed the angry tremors but did not still them. He felt ill after this conversation... and frightened. Malfoy was just a bit too nosy.

Severus was practically chomping at the bit to run up the stairs and speak with Dumbledore but he knew that was too risky. If he were seen running to Albus right after Malfoy left and word got back to Malfoy... Instead he grabbed a quill and scribbled a quick note calling for a house elf to bring it to the headmaster immediately.

A short time later Severus was pacing impatiently in his quarters when he heard a slight rustling and looked up to see Dumbledore undoing his invisibility charm.

"Malfoy's been nosing around about Phoebe." Severus said without pre-amble.

"I know. He was in my office."

"YOUR office? I don't like that at all."

"It is curious considering the extreme unlikelihood he would get any information from me." 

"She's not safe enough down there. She needs to be moved back up to Hogwarts." Severus insisted.

"I agree," Dumbledore said gravely, " In fact, I've already sent Poppy down to see to it."

Life never is that simple, however. Hours later Poppy Pomfrey was found stupefied in the healer's office which contained no trace of either healer or patient.


	16. I Won't Be Here

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 16

  
  


Dumbledore was kneeling beside the unconscious Pomfrey in an instant as Snape quickly tore about the clinic to be sure Phoebe and Jeffrey were truly missing.

"Ennervate," Dumbledore said directing his wand at Poppy's still form. Immediately, she began to stir. Her hand flew up to grasp the back of her head as she opened her eyes. She let out a low moan then, her eyes seemed to sharpen into and quickly slide out of focus as she jumped and struggled to get to her feet.

"Poppy, Poppy, it's Albus," Dumbledore said, grasping the panicky woman's arms, "You're alright, we're here."

Pomfrey stilled looked at Snape and Dumbledore and gave herself a little shake followed by a shuddering breath.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Dumbledore asked.

Again Pomfrey's hand went to the back of her head, seemingly of its own volition. "It's a bit fuzzy, I'm afraid. I remember walking down to the clinic and knocking on the door." The Hogwarts nurse scowled, "Then, when I opened the door, all Hell seemed to break loose. A man, a man in dark robes swooped down on me and grabbed me," Dumbledore ran a soothing hand up and down Poppy's arm as her voice shook slightly, "I tried to get away but he was so strong, too strong, then someone called out 'stupefy' and then you were waking me up."

"Did you see their faces?" Snape asked, with surprising gentleness

"No, no I didn't"

"That probably saved you," Snape said too softly for Poppy to hear. Dumbledore, however, caught every word and his brow creased before he spoke again.

"Poppy, do you remember anything else, what the room looked like, who was here, even just the briefest glimpse of something different than it is now?"

Pomfrey looked around slowly then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She opened and closed them again and finally spoke, "Everything happened so quickly, it's just a blur. The only thing that I can remember is that I think there was something on the floor, a bundle or a pile of something."

"Just one?" Dumbledore prodded gently.

"Maybe. Maybe two. I'm not sure," Poppy said fatigue beginning to make her voice ragged.

Dumbledore looked up at Snape, "Severus, do you have an idea of where you might find James Barnes? We need to tell him what has happened and ask him to look at Poppy," He turned his gaze back to Pomfrey, "I believe you hit your head when you fell after being stupefied, my friend."

"I think you're right." Pomfrey replied wincing as her hand rubbed the back of her head.

  
  


Snape returned with the elder Doctor Barnes about one half hour later. James Barnes was very tense, each muscle seemed drawn and ready to spring.

"Alright," he said harshly as Severus closed the clinic door, "What the Hell is it? Tell me!"

Snape's mouth formed a grim line at these words but he took a deep breath and spoke carefully and calmly, "James, Jeffrey and his patient, Professor Taylor, are missing." Severus noted two things at these words. The first was that James Barnes paled considerably. The second was that Dumbledore had come out of the exam room where Pomfrey had undoubtedly been moved.

"We have reason to believe," Severus continued, steeling his resolve to finish explaining it all, "That they may have been taken by Death Eaters in the service of Voldemort."

James Barnes was a strong man of not inconsiderable courage. As a doctor he was no stranger to brutality... even the extreme brutality of Voldemort and his minions. He was used to absorbing shocking and even frightening information and continuing the task at hand. This, Severus suspected, was what he was trying to do; out of habit if nothing else.

"I see," he began weakly, "Well, then, we will need to... We will need... We'll need..."

"James!" Dumbledore exclaimed with a note of alarm as Severus grabbed the doctor whose knees had given way beneath him. Dumbledore helped Severus get James to a chair where the healer took several deep steadying breaths and then put his head in his hands. Both men kept a reassuring hand on the distraught healer. After a moment however, Severus noticed his hand was beginning to tremble so he lifted it and walked silently to the other side of the room to collect himself.

Those few moments of silence and James Barnes' reaction had made it much more difficult for Severus to shove aside the conjecture and mental imagery of what may have happened to Phoebe and Jeffrey. He knew all too well the danger they were in. He had seen it first hand. He had plenty of mental photographs to go with the anxieties.

"Severus" Albus Dumbledore's voice broke into his thoughts as a warm hand was laid on his shoulder. "Severus, are you all right for the moment?"

Snape nodded and turned to look at the older wizard. "Severus, you'll need to get back to the castle. The Death Eaters will likely look to find you there. I am sorry to send you off on your own, but you need to get back. I will help James see to Poppy and return with them both as quickly as I may."

Severus nodded and looked past Dumbledore to James Barnes. The doctor met his eye with an anxious but determined look. He nodded at Snape who nodded curtly back and quickly took his leave.

  
  
  
  


Severus spent an anxious hour or more alone in his office pacing, re-arranging books, alphabetizing potion ingredients, anything to keep him from leaping out of his skin. During that time he tried desperately to focus only on the task at hand... only on what was before him. Asphodel after Arrowroot... s after r. This trick had served him well in the past it had allowed him to endure a great deal. But things had changed recently and many of his old coping methods weren't working as well. 

He still tried. Tried not to think what might have happened to Jeffery and to Phoebe. But he knew who had them and why they were both gone. He also knew that, in a way, this was his fault too. Seeing James drop his head to his hands earlier had filled him with guilt. If he had only restrained himself and his feelings in the first place. If he had not been so selfish... Merlin knows, even if he had not been so stubborn after Phoebe came to him in the hospital wing. Yes, there was plenty of blame to go around, and he was entitled to a good portion of it.

Dammit! What was taking Albus so long? He thought this for what was easily the 45th time. This time, however, he was rewarded with a knock. Snape moved swiftly to the door and preformed a charm to see through it. Albus and James, thank Ptolemy! He opened the door swiftly only just resisting the urge to physically pull both men in. 

He pulled two chairs around for them and then took his own.

"Poppy?" he asked simply.

"She will be alright. I have her up in the hospital wing. I'll be staying there tonight just as a precaution," James Barnes reported wearliy.

Snape nodded, at a loss for words.

"I need to get back up there; but before I do I need to know what you two think is going on. I've been as patient as I can be but..."

Dumbledore put a gentle hand on James' arm.

"You have been more than patient, more than dutiful toward Poppy, and we thank you. We are not trying to keep anything from you. You understand we needed an appropriate time and place."

Barnes nodded curtly, he was obviously biting back the urge to tell them to get on with it. Snape did.

"James, you examined Phoebe and got her history from Jeffrey?"

"Yes, of course," the healer's expression saddened as he shook his head, "Damn monsters."

"And," Snape continued gently but rather firmly, "You know who the baby's father is?" 

James nodded, "I also know it doesn't matter because the pregnancy has to end or it will kill her."

"Yes, and there are some who..." Severus' throat was suddenly tight and quite painful. He tried to go on but couldn't manage.

"There are some," Dumbledore continued with a sympathetic look toward Snape, "Who would not want the Dark Lord's child aborted, if they knew the pregnancy exists. Lucius Malfoy was here today sniffing around. But, even if he hadn't been, I think the conclusion as to what has happened would be unavoidable."

"They know," James said in a strangled whisper.

"I believe they do. I also believe they are determined to keep her from terminating the pregnancy."

"But that will kill her."

"Yes, but that is of little consequence to Voldemort and his minions. If they can keep her alive long enough for the baby to be viable, they won't care if it kills her."

"By the four elements, they've taken Jeffrey to keep her alive as long as possible!" James gasped. His voice shook as he continued, "And once they have the child?"

"Jeffrey will be needed to keep it alive."

"And if it dies?"

"I hope to have retrieved both Jeffrey and Phoebe before this comes about," Dumbledore said calmly but firmly.

"They'll kill him, too, won't they?" James asked

It was Severus who answered, his voice barely above a whisper, "Yes they will."

James Barnes looked at Snape whose head had dropped to look at his hands, which he was wringing in his lap. The compassionate mind of a healer suddenly remembered...

"Jeffrey thought you were the father at first, Severus." he said in a distant voice.

Snape looked up at James with hollow eyes. "If only..." he said, bitterly.

"Severus, Jeffrey, we are going to figure out how to get them back," Dumbledore said firmly. We have an excellent chance of doing so, Severus, so long as they believe you are still loyal to Voldemort. So long as they do, you will probably hear the news of what is going on and where. You may even be pressed into service to brew potions."

Severus looked horrified and hopeful all at once. Yes, he had a good chance of discovering where they were, but to brew a potion to help keep Phoebe as some sort of incubator for the Dark Lord's spawn...

"And if Voldemort doesn't still trust Severus?" James asked anxiously.

"This will certainly tell us one way or another," Snape noted dryly. 

"I am already working out others avenues, James." Dumbledore said. "In fact, I need to return to my office. Severus it is probably best you stay in your office or your rooms in case Malfoy comes back or sends someone. James, I will walk you back to the hospital wing." Dumbledore rose and James Barnes followed suit.

"Severus, if you don't mind, I'll just have Argus or Minerva drop around to check in on you." Dumbledore added.

"No need," Snape said in a strangely strangled voice.

"Severus, you need to-"

"No," Snape said, "I won't be here." 

Comprehension dawned on the Headmasters face, along with concern. Dr. Barnes looked quite confused, however. Snape simply pulled up his left sleeve and showed the healer the Dark Mark burning fiercely on his arm.


	17. Cryptic Communication

"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 17: Cryptic Communications

  
  


Breathing hard, Severus dropped his broom beside a tree at the apparition point in the Forbidden Forest. He forced himself to stand still and breathe deeply until his breathing rate came back to normal. He had to be calm... calm. Now, more than ever it was important he wear his "Death Eater Face" He had to remember that, as far as Voldemort and his followers were concerned, he neither liked nor trusted Phoebe. As a "loyal" death eater he would be happy that the Dark Lord had sired an heir; he must seem willing to do whatever it took to bring that child to term. 

Damn good thing he had experience hiding his true feelings. Of course, now he had considerably more feelings to hide... and the stakes were considerably higher. He just hoped Jeffrey was thinking straight and wouldn't react hopefully at the sight of Snape... if he was there. With that, he touched the dark mark on his arm and was gone.

Severus recognized the dusty wreck of the Riddle Mansion immediately and felt relief. If Phoebe were here they would have no trouble returning to her location... they knew where The Riddle House was. The problem would be getting in. This place had more guarding charms on it than Hogwarts. In fact, without a dark mark on your arm you couldn't even apparate in. Snape wondered how they'd gotten Jeff in... apparate outside and walk in? If Jeff was here, of course.

He glanced to the large room to his right where a large wing-backed chair stood in front of the fire. Several death eaters stood to each side of the mantle facing the chair, waiting. Severus composed his thoughts and strode into the room. Coming around to the front of the chair he prostrated himself before Voldemort on the floor.

"You called, My Lord?" he asked, face in the dusty carpet.

"Indeed," came Voldemort's icy voice. "Stand up Snape, there is work for you to do."

Severus stood to face the Dark Lord, his face still turned, in humility, toward the carpet, "Yes my Lord, I am at your service."

"Yes you are" Voldemort noted coldly, "and you will be for some time yet. You'll need to send an owl to that wretched school requesting a leave of absence."

Oh, this was not good.

"Shall I give a reason, My Lord," Snape said as deferentially as he could manage.

"Yes, tell the old fool that runs the place that you are dealing with a medical crisis."

"Yes my Lord. Are you ill my Lord?" Snape said, feigning concern.

"No I am not" Voldemort said pointing lazily at a table against the wall, "now send your message."

Severus saw an owl was perched on the table next to a parchment and quill. He walked swiftly over, trying to think very fast. It was probably best, at this point, to simply do as he was asked. There would be time later to "pull" something.

"Headmaster," he wrote, "I will be taking an indefinite leave of absence to deal with a medical crisis. -Severus Snape."

He walked back to Voldemort and presented him with the parchment. Voldemort glanced at it and handed it back. "Send it," he commanded. Snape did as he was told, folding the parchment and attaching it to the leg of the owl and opening the window. The owl flew out into the dark night immediately. Severus closed the window and turned back toward Voldemort.

"Give him the list, Wormtail," Voldemort said to the short wizard with a silver hand. With an air of self-importance Wormtail marched over to Severus and shoved a piece of parchment at him. Severus took it but did not look down... knowing Voldemort would want him to wait for permission.

"Read it, Snape."

Severus looked down and recognized Jeffrey Barnes' handwriting. It was a list of several medicinal potions. He scanned them and looked up.

"The pantry has been converted for your use," Voldemort said, "so that you may begin brewing those immediately."

"Yes, My Lord," Snape said giving a deep bow.

"You may go." Voldemort said imperiously.

Snape left swiftly stepping into the corridor and looking for the connecting hall to the back of the house. He spied the wreck of a dining room and walked through it, knowing he'd find the kitchen (and hence the pantry) nearby. He was right. The kitchen lay just beyond the dining room at the end of a short corridor with a sideboard. The pantry was off the kitchen. It was quite large for a pantry, Snape noted. Shelves were filled with potion ingredients, measuring devices, scales, mortar and pestle, and other things necessary for potions brewing. A cauldron sat on a magical fire and several empty bottles stood waiting to be filled. 

With a sigh, Snape began his work. Most of the potions were simple and could be brewed with little thought. Still, he was very careful. These potions were likely for Phoebe... to keep her alive. Jeffrey's life depended on them, too. He must be exact.

If only he could be sure they were here... that would help. Certainly the Riddle House was big enough to have them within its walls. But would Voldemort risk putting them in so obvious a location? There was a good chance there were elsewhere and the potions would be taken to them by apparition. Damn. 

And, for all that, he officially didn't know what these potions were for. Voldemort hand not said. That concerned him a bit. Was Voldemort just being cautious or did he suspect Snape? If he did there was little chance he could get Jeff and Phoebe out. It also seemed he would be here for a while. There would be no chance of returning to Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore. He'd have to find them and then find another way. Well, at least he didn't have to teach the rest of the term. 

He pulled Jeffrey's list toward him and made a note on it of how much of the first potion he had brewed and also noted a simple substitution. He didn't know if Jeffrey would recognize his handwriting, too. Hopefully he would at least suspect it was him. He hoped the "obsessive attention to detail" (Barnes' words) would tip Jeffrey off if the handwriting didn't. He wanted them to know he was nearby helping as best he could.

  
  


On his first morning in the dank, cold rooms to which he had been taken Jeffrey Barnes was awakened by a Death Eater. The hooded wizard came with a crate full of filled potion bottles and the annotated list. Jeffrey took the box and set it down, pulling out the note curiously. The handwriting looked rather familiar. As he read it through, he struggled to keep his expression neutral. The writing, the phrasing, the picky detail... Severus. Dare he hope that his friend and Dumbledore's spy was here? 

The Death Eater shifted and cleared his throat irritably.

"Yes, yes," Jeffrey said not bothering to smother his impatience, "I'll make out another list."

He strode over to the table set below a dirty window high in the wall. It let in just enough light for him to see. He needed to think quickly. What did he really need and how could he communicate with Severus? As he scribbled out a new list on the thin strip of parchment, it hit him. Finishing the list, he began a carefully spaced note:

Should I be needing an

ennervating solution, a

vial or two, could you

enhance an exisiting

receipe or is the potion too

uniform to be brewed in

such a way? Let me know

?

Jeffrey handed the parchment to the Death Eater and concentrated on showing no expression as the man read it. The hooded figure" Humphed" at it, turned and left. Jeffrey was left alone with his patient. He shivered as he turned toward the bed on the opposite wall. He'd have to demand a better fire or hypothermia would kill both him and Phoebe long before her pregnancy poisoned her.

He had thought that they would have treated the Witch bearing the Dark Lord's heir a bit better. She was just an incubator to them now, he mused angrily. She was going to die anyway, what did she matter? He forced himself to calm down. He slowed his breathing, his heart rate. Then he sat next to the unconscious woman and laid his hands on her shoulders.

He slowly let his consciousness enter her body to examine it. Her fever was pretty high... no danger of hypothermia until the chills started, then. The pregnancy swirled in the systems ahead of him like dirty black oil working its way across the surface of a pond. Her body was fighting hard to contain the toxins it was producing and the potions would help. She would be in a lot of pain if she awakened. Dealing with the pain would take energy she couldn't spare. He'd have to keep her under. He transferred some healing energy to repair damage done by the toxins and boost her immune system and pulled himself out.

He needed to be careful not to sap his energy or he would be no good to her. He got up and began to pull various potions from the crate. He sat Phoebe up and carefully dosed her, using his healers skill to be certain the liquids were swallowed and not inhaled into the lungs. The last potion was a sedating one that would keep her unconscious. As he settled her back down he couldn't help but shake his head.

Unless someone pulled off something spectacular this would be the last part of her life and, thanks to him, she'd be unconscious for it..

  
  


Severus had been up all night brewing the potions on Jeffrey's list. When the Death Eater had come and taken them away he'd sat down and rested his head on his hand. He'd been up all night, and been burning a great deal of energy on stress. Ceridwyn's Cauldron he was tired!

He was startled by the Death Eater's return and realized that he'd fallen asleep. Damn! The man handed him another list and kicked a crate toward him. More potion ingredients? He didn't have a chance to ask, the wizard turned and left.

He scanned the note. Yes, this was Jeffrey's writing. If only he hadn't fallen asleep! He might have gauged how long it took the Death Eater to go to Jeffrey and return. Blast! He looked at the list again. It was simple enough, and expected. The note at the bottom was strange, however. 

Severus read it over several times. Jeffrey knew you didn't change an ennervating solution in any case. Uniformity? Alright, what was Jeffrey trying to say, to communicate?

He read the list again. He tried pulling out the words of things that one didn't do: add uniform? No. He knew it was there, it was right there! Why couldn't he see it?

He held the list away from him and looked at it again. Strange. Especially Jeff not fitting in the final question mark at the end of the line above... or leaving it out entirely. Wait, wait a moment. He looked down the left side of the paper and saw it. The first character of every line spelled out "Severus?" He allowed himself a small chuckle at the fact that Barnes had even managed to be sure his name was capitalized.

Alright. He needed to let Jeffrey know it was him and find out where Jeff was. Too much to put into the first character of every line. How, then? 

He realized he needed to calm down and think very clearly. Well, the best way to do that was to brew something. He looked at the list again and pulled the carton the wizard had left toward him. Supplies. Ingredients. Good.

When the first potion was simmering he sat back and thought. "Where are you" even "Where R U" was what he needed to ask. That would probably fit using Jeffrey's system. He took up his quill:

"What other things may I do to

help you with your project?

ennervating potions

require separate brewing

each potion will be done as

requested. I have the

understanding. I have the

solutions simmering."

  
  


When Jeffrey turned over his list it was all he could do to NOT sigh in relief. He saw the word "where" along the left margin. It took a moment for him to realize "r" and "u" were intended as entire words. He almost grinned at the fact Severus had "signed" the note "solutions simmering" S.S. Where was he? That would be easy to explain. No code required.

He walked over to the table and turned a long strip of paper sideways and wrote.

"I am concerned about the shelf life of the potions in this basement. Do we need to do anything special to preserve them?" 

This time Severus kept track of how long it took the Wizard delivering the notes and potions to return. Not long at all. Then he read the note. The basement. The basement here. The use of a "we" suggested Phoebe was with him. Now he knew where they were. That was the easy part. The hard part would be getting them all out right under the nose of all those Death Eaters and Voldemort himself.


	18. For Whom The Bell Tolls

ICLYLM chapter 18: For Whom The Bell Tolls

Thanks to all the faithful reader/reviewers!

Almost everything belongs to Rowling. Phoebe is mine. Jeffrey Barnes belongs to the eloquent Raven Dancer who has given her kind permission for him to help Severus and Phoebe.  
  


On the second or third day, Severus was beginning to lose track, a cot was brought to his potions lab/pantry. Surprisingly, there was actually room to set it up at the far end of the little room. "Cozy" Severus said to no one in particular after he had unfolded it and made it up. "Bed, chair, sink, cauldron, fire, ingredients and utensils... everything a potion master needs all in one place," he thought wryly. 

The next day the thick (in more ways than one) wizard who had been acting as a courier brought the message that Severus was "invited" to use the library. The Library had clearly once been a muggle one... of a well to do family at that. Dusty volumes of Shakespeare, Donne, and even a older complete Oxford English Dictionary... all thirty some-odd volumes. 

An entire section of shelves near the door had been cleared of its original contents... a pile of Dumas and Hugo titles in the corner were doubtless the former occupants of the space. Now that portion of shelves held books related to magic. Severus picked up a book from the pile on the floor. Hugo, in French. Yes, they'd been well-to-do, alright. He put the book back on the pile wondering if the Dostoyevsky was in Russian. Probably. He doubted the Riddle family had been concerned with actually reading the books. He wandered the room looking at the titles on the shelves. Finally he selected a volume of Emily Dickinson's poems and of John Donne's collected works. He added a thick volume on potions from the magic section and returned to his pantry.

He opened the door to find Voldemort seated on the wooden chair. Once he got past being startled, Severus noted how Voldemort could make even this simple kitchen chair look like some sort of throne. 

"My Lord," Severus intoned dipping his head low in deference. When he straightened up the red eyes were regarding him intently. Without a word Voldemort rose and stepped across the small space between them. He took the book on top of the pile and opened it to a random page, reading aloud in that high, cold, voice,

"'For each ecstatic instant, We must in anguish pay, In keen and quivering ratio, To the ecstacy.' Indeed. A muggle with insight, how strange." He turned the book to read the spine, "Dickinson." He tossed the volume behind him. It hit the edge of the cot and bounced to the floor. Voldemort took the next book again opening it at random and reading aloud.

"'Every man's death diminishes me, for I am concerned with mankind. Therefore, do not send to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.' Now Severus, why would you be reading this?" Voldemort asked, "Has the muggle-loving fool been addling your brain?"

"My Lord," he said, meeting Voldemort's eyes, "It is the early poetry which concerns me. If you would care to read it I think you'd find it, interesting." 

"Indeed?"

"Yes, my Lord. He uses words to have his way with people...especially women... the way we might use magic."

"Yes, yes, whatever," Voldemort said dropping the book onto the floor. "Aha, this is more like it," he said spying the large potions volume, "It is fortunate you don't intend to waste all your time on muggle writing, Snape." With this Voldemort turned and resumed his seat.

"I have been given to understand that you are doing a capable job with your brewing."

"I strive to please you, my Lord," Severus intoned.

"I certainly hope so, for your sake," Voldemort said silkily. "Still, one wonders, if you intend to please me, why it is that you did not tell me WHY our newest death-eater was spending all that time at the clinic in Hogsmeade... or even THAT she was."

Uh. Oh.

"My Lord, I knew word would reach Malfoy and then you. It seemed foolish to risk an unnecessary communication when Malfoy's son was sure to tell him. I am watched very closely now, my Lord, and I must take care if I am to remain useful."

"I should think the reason WHY Taylor was ill would merit the risk of communication," Voldemort said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

"My Lord, I do not yet know. It seemed unwise to inquire too deeply. I was confident that when she returned to the castle the cause of her illness would be easy enough to discover... especially if it is serious and she requires care from the nurse. Was Malfoy able to discover the cause then?" Severus said feigning eager curiousity.

"He was." Voldemort said icy, regarding Severus carefully.

"May I ask what?" Severus inquired breathlessly.

Severus hadn't thought it possible for Voldemort to fix his eyes upon him more intently than he already had. Somehow, however, Voldemort managed. The red eyes seemed to bore into Severus as the Dark Lord answered him,

"Taylor is pregnant."

Severus didn't have to pretend. The sound of that voice saying that seemed to pull the wind out of him. He played his reaction to his benefit, grabbing the counter to support himself in feigned surprise.

"My Lord," he breathed, "Are you sure?"

"Indeed."

"Is it? Could it be, my Lord?" Snape put excitement and anticipation he didn't feel into his words, reminding himself that two peoples lives depended on him pulling this off.

"The Child is my Heir" Voldemort supplied coldly and Severus sank to his knees despite the hand he had placed on the counter. Thinking quickly he moved on his knees to Voldemort and spoke.

"My Lord, this news, it is more than we had hoped for!"

"I think, rather, that it is quite the opposite of what some of my followers had hoped for."Voldemort noted sourly, "it rather spoils their ambitious plans."

"They do not want you to have an heir my Lord? They wouldn't... That isn't the reason Taylor was in Clinic was it?" Severus said quickly feigning alarm this time.

"None have interfered. Yet. It may not be necessary."

"I confess I do not understand."

"The woman is experiencing a difficult pregnancy. The fool doctor at the clinic in Hogsmeade wanted to end the pregnancy and doubtless would have if Malfoy had not intervened. Your caution might well have cost me my heir Snape."

Snape lowered his head, wringing his hands, "I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. There is no excuse."

"I do not need your contrition Snape!" snapped Voldemort. "No just yet, anyway," he continued in a softly dangerous voice, "What I need is your skill. You have acquitted yourself well so far. But now more is needed. The woman and the healer have been brought here."

Snape caught his breath, feigning surprise. 

"The healer claims the pregnancy is toxic and will kill her, doubtless why the fool wanted to terminate it. Now his task it to keep her alive long enough for the child to be born."

Snape forced himself to nod. If he didn't already know, this is the point he would realize what he had been brewing potions for. The pregnancy would kill her? Merlin's Name!

"The time has come for you to be of more direct assistance. From this point on your welfare is directly related to the welfare of my heir. If the heir is born alive all is forgiven. If it is not... well, THAT would be the time for contrition... little good though it will do you." Voldemort rose as he finished this sentence so that now he towered above the still kneeling Snape.

"They are being held in the basement. You may come and go but the healer and the woman stay there." With that Voldemort swept past Snape and out the door. Severus stayed on his knees for a few moments carefully controlling his breathing. Finally he rose and shut the pantry door firmly. 

Numbly he found the chair and sat down, only to rise quickly, as if burned, when he realized Voldemort had just been in the seat. A rush of nausea clutched his stomach and he fought it back. He moved to the cot and sank down. The pregnancy would kill her and Voldemort had brought her here to make sure the child was born despite this. Of course, the evil wizard wouldn't turn a hair at her death... or likely at Barnes'. Would he kill Jeffrey, too, once the child was born?

He had to get hold of himself! The only chance any of them had depended on his not making any mistakes! A deep breath. Yes, that was better. Alright, then, the first thing he might be expected to do is go down there and take stock of his "task." 

Yes, he needed to be calm, cold even. He could manage that. The key was managing Jeffrey and Phoebe's reactions so that they didn't give him away. It was best to go in completely in character and talking... yes. Jeffrey was astute and very good at picking up signals... hopefully he would pick up on the "script" quickly.

Another deep breath. Severus rose and began to walk toward the door. His foot hit something and he looked down at the volume of poetry. "In keen and quivering ratio to the ecstasy, indeed." he muttered under his breath. It seemed to him that they anguish with which they were paying far, far outstripped any supposed ecstacy.


	19. I Must Baffle At The Hint

ICLYLM chapter 19: I Must Baffle At The Hint

  
  


[Phoebe is mine, Jeffrey Barnes belongs to Raven Dancer, everyone else is JKR's]

  
  


Jeffrey Barnes sat in a chair by the table. He was the picture of dejection, elbow on table, head on hand, staring at nothing. He was surprised at how quickly he had lost track of time. Had they been here three days? Five? He could no longer tell. Aside from treating Phoebe and eating the excuses for meals that came, there was nothing to occupy his attention and it was having a negative effect on his psyche.

He had nicknamed the Death Eater who acted as courier "Dunderhead" and that was all he'd had to smile about in what felt like an age and a half. Jeffrey shook himself. He must think as positively as possible. His eyes strayed to the fireplace. At least he'd gotten the fire. Of course he had a feeling he could get anything he wanted so long as it was to keep Phoebe alive long enough to have the child. Still, he wasn't willing to push it just yet.

He stood up and stretched his back. He then began to walk, swinging his arms vigorously. He needed to keep the blood flowing to the brain, needed to stay healthy himself, needed to keep despair at bay. He was on his fifth circuit of the basement room when he heard a heavy tread upon the stair. Ah, Dunderhead, no doubt.

As Jeffrey turned to face the door Dunderhead did, indeed, emerge. He was followed almost immediately by Severus Snape who was speaking loudly and nastily even before he stepped in the room.

"Get out of my way, man! What kind of fool are you? Can't you see I'm trying to pass? Why bring me to see the accursed prisoners if you won't let me in the door?"

Dunderhead had frozen as Snape began to yell at him and now stood dumbly right where Snape doubtlessly wanted to be.

"Move!" Severus roared. 

Jeffrey cringed in spite of himself. This must be the Snape that frightened the students so. He guessed he'd known that Snape was in there but this was his first "up close" exposure. The healer did some quick thinking. Severus wouldn't be bossing Dunderhead around if he, himself, were being brought as a prisoner. He was also seemingly in full "Death Eater" mode and clearly wanted there to be no doubt about that. The best thing to do was to wait and take his cues from Severus.

Jeffrey crossed his arms and fixed his face in an expression just short of a glare as Dunderhead scrambled out of the way.

"Go stand watch outside the door, you fool. Stay there in case I need you!" Snape snarled slamming the door as Dunderhead scurried into the stairwell. If the situation hadn't been so serious Jeffrey might have found the sight of the large, dull witted Death Eater scurrying amusing. Just now, however, he hadn't the laughter to spare.

Snape whirled on him, raising his eyebrows significantly and jerking his head toward the door.

"So, Barnes, you've moved your practice, I see." he sneered loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the door.

"Not by my choice I assure you, Death Eater," Jeffrey spat just as loudly with a note of both contempt and disgust.

"Your desires are not significant to us, I assure you," Snape retorted, "All we care about is the Dark Lord's heir. You should be concerned about the heir, too, doctor. It's welfare is tied to your own. So hold your opinions and tell me what you are doing to assure the birth of Voldemort's heir." Snape said loudly. This time, however, he put a hand on Jeffrey's back propelling him away from the door.

Jeffrey nodded and led Snape to the far corner of the room near the fireplace where Phoebe lay, rather still, on the bed. 

"I understand there are problems with the pregnancy that..." Snape began but could go no further. Barnes touched his arm lightly, his eyes searching to catch Severus' own. Severus looked at him shook his head slightly and cupped a hand to his ear. They could probably still be heard.

"Yes," Jeffrey said, catching on, " My job is to keep her alive as some sort of incubator for the child." he was playing along but could not hide the sorrow in his voice.

"Mine is to help you," Severus said softly, disgust evident in his voice, "So tell me what you are doing." 

Jeffrey then launched into a description of the problem and his treatment thus far, especially what he was trying to accomplish with the potions. Severus nodded thoughtfully at all that was said, but his eyes stayed on Phoebe. "This must be torture for him" Jeffrey thought as he finished his monologue.

Snape sighed heavily and looked at Barnes. "There may be some other potions which may help," he said evenly, "I'll need to do some tinkering in the lab. Meantime do you need anything else?"

"I am well stocked on the usual potions. Unless you can pump some fresh air down here I suppose that will have to do."

Snape closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and looked intently into Jeffrey's, "Very well, doctor, I am committed to helping you. I will be back when I have more to discuss." He looked very intently at Jeffrey for another moment. Jeffrey nodded slowly and Severus turned on his heel and swept toward the door. As he opened it there was a dull thud and Severus could be heard upbraiding Dunderhead for being in the way as his voice traveled up the stairs.

Jeffrey turned from the door and walked slowly toward Phoebe. He sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder sending some warm energy into her. "Hang in there, we're working on it," he whispered.

  
  


Severus was not back that day or the next morning, either. When he came through the door, at last, Jeffrey was so relieved that it took a moment for him to notice the absence of Dunderhead.

"What, no bodyguard?" He asked sarcastically when he finally did notice.

"I think I can handle you and an unconscious woman, Barnes," Severus sneered back with an apologetic look. He walked past Jeffrey and set a large crate down on the table. He pulled out a bottle and turned to face the healer. 

"I think I've come up with a better anti-toxin," he said proffering the bottle. Jeffrey took it and gazed at the purplish liquid within.

"There is a problem, however," Severus continued looking uneasily at Phoebe's bed, "You cannot use it in combination with the potions you are using to keep her sedated. You need to make the call which is more important: the benefits of sedation or of a new anti-toxin?"

"Her body will not be able to keep the toxins under control much longer with what I've been using. I'll have to discontinue the sedation." Jeffrey sighed.

Severus turned back to the box and pulled out another bottle, "I assume pain is part of the reason you have been keeping her under?" he asked turning back.

"Yes, the energy to manage it..."

"This may help, it won't react negatively with the anti-toxin."

Jeffrey took the second bottle and walked over to Phoebe's bed to place them on the cabinet beside it. He turned to face Severus again and saw his gaze was fixed on Phoebe as it had been yesterday. The look of misery he wore was a bit hard for Jeffrey to take in his own emotionally debilitated state.

"Anything else in the box?" he asked to distract Snape

"Ah, yes," Severus said tearing his gaze away from the bed, "More of the standard potions, a nutritive solution, and some fresh air."

Jeffrey's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Pardon?" he said, incredulously.

With the barest hint of a smile Snape stepped over to the box, reached in, and pulled out two books. 

"It's the best I could do in a day," he said softly. "Try not to let your brain stagnate will you?" he said a bit louder. "I shall return this evening to check your progress," Snape finished imperiously, turned on his heel, and left.

Jeffrey stared at the closed door for a moment before stepping over to pick up one of the books. He opened it, discovering the spine had been broken so that the book opened to a particular page. There was a slight smudge of something next to a poem. Jeffrey lifted the book to his nose, the smudge smelled spicy... some sort of herb, and recently smudged at that. 

The poem was a mere three verses. It was the last verse that Jeffrey felt he had been meant to read, "So I must baffle at the Hint, And cipher at the Sign, And make much blunder, if at last, I take the clue divine-"

Jeffrey felt his pulse race. Severus was preparing him to receive a clue of some sort. He needed to get Phoebe awake by the time Severus returned, just in case.


	20. Dog Days

ICLYLM chapter 20: "Dog Days"

  
  


James Barnes spent two nights staying in the hospital wing before returning, reluctantly to his own home. The owl Dumbledore had received from Severus that first night had not been followed by any other communication. Unless the Headmaster could think of something, they were in for what looked like a considerable wait. The phrase "leave of absence" told them it looked to be a long haul. The phrase "medical emergency" also suggested that Snape had been brought in to assist Jeffrey. James and Dumbledore agreed that it seemed most likely that Voldemort was planning on keeping Phoebe pregnant as long as possible in hopes of her delivering the child. Neither had any illusions about what would happen to Phoebe. It would kill her. 

Neither man stated it aloud, but both feared Jeffrey would be killed once his usefulness had run out... likely with the birth of the child. Snape was another matter entirely. His position had become more and more precarious over the last several months. Frankly, Dumbledore had already feared for Snape's life any time he was called to meet Voldemort or the Death Eaters. The situation was grim, indeed.

The students, on the other hand, were little troubled by the absence of their Potions Master and Ancient Studies Professor. Many thought it an odd, if not unfortunate, coincidence that both had taken leave at the same time. Normally the mutual disappearance of a male and female professor would give rise to a riot of rumours. Since one professor was the dreaded evil Snape no one could take the notion that he and Taylor had eloped or some such thing seriously. Most came to the conclusion that Professor Taylor was very ill, indeed. As for Snape? Well they were just glad to be free of him for a time.

Other teachers had divided up Taylor's classes for the rest of the term according to who was best suited to each. Trelawney, for instance, was given the Runes classes (much to Hermione Granger's chagrin). Professor Tincture, an elderly retired professor, had been engaged to take Snape's classes for the remainder of the term. Tincture went through the curriculum methodically and tended to pass anyone who did the work, regardless of how well they did it. The students had the impression he just didn't have the energy to do more.

For the students, therefore, things returned to normal very quickly. Indeed, it didn't take long for them to find things about which to complain regarding their new, old, professor.

Hermione in particular.

"He's not teaching us, really," she observed at lunch one day, "He's just telling us to do what the book says. That wouldn't be so bad if he cared how it went; but he doesn't. We don't need to go to class for that."

"Count your blessings, Hermione," Harry said as he reached for a tureen full of stew.

"Yeah, anything is better than rotten old Snape," Ron agreed, "He could never come back for all I care."

At that moment Hermione noticed that the Headmaster had been passing their table. He paused, ever so briefly as Ron spoke before continuing on. She could swear that a look of great sadness had crossed his features at Ron's comment. Perhaps it was her imagination. Perhaps not. After all, the Headmaster would be concerned about any member of the staff, wouldn't he? Her attention was distracted, however, when Neville Longbottom brought up Professor Trelawney. She had a few things saved up to say about HER...

  
  


Dumbledore took his place at the staff table with a small sigh. He wasn't hungry but it wasn't good for him to be absent from too many meals. He needed to put in an appearance even if he didn't eat. Lupin sat down next to him, looked at the Headmaster's empty plate and made a small noise of disapproval.

"You'll waste away to nothing if you don't start eating, Headmaster," he said in a low voice.

"I suppose," Dumbledore replied, but did not fill his plate. 

After about ten minutes the Headmaster rose and left the hall. Lupin looked at his retreating back and put his fork down. That was enough. Something was clearly going on and it was time he asked the Headmaster directly. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor took a last pull of his pumpkin juice and rose to follow Dumbledore.

He caught up with him as Dumbledore said the password to open the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office and rooms. 

"Headmaster, a word?" Lupin asked. Dumbledore nodded and gestured for him to go ahead of him onto the spiral staircase. 

"Albus," Lupin said as soon as they were in the Headmaster's office with the door shut, "What is going on?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but said nothing, considering.

"Come on! Snape and Taylor disappear, You stop eating, and I find out today that Jeffrey Barnes has been gone for about the same period of time Severus and Phoebe have. What happened to them?" Lupin asked... clearly having decided on a VERY direct approach.

Dumbledore sighed softly and sat down on the couch in his office motioning for Lupin to find a seat as well. Remus took one of the squashy chairs opposite Dumbledore's couch.

"I will be revealing a great many confidences in telling you this," Dumbledore said as Lupin nodded seriously, "It is a measure of how stymied I am that I do this. Still, I could use some perspective, Remus.

"Professor Taylor joined the ranks of the Death Eaters as a spy at the beginning of term," Albus began. Remus caught his breath, "Death Eater initiation rites are rather brutal. As a result of hers, Phoebe is with child," the Headmaster paused here to give Lupin a moment to digest. A terrible sadness crossed Lupins face even as a flash of anger lit his eyes. He gripped the arms of his chair very hard as Dumbledore continued.

"It seems likely that the child is Voldemort's," Dumbledore said simply, pausing again.

"In the name of all things holy..." Remus started, "Merlin's beard, Albus, how do you countenance such a thing?" 

"There's more," Dumbledore continued evenly.

When he had finished explaining it all Lupin sat in stunned silence; trying to absorb all that he had been told. His mind and his heart were reeling with the news. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. He got up and began pacing slowly through the room. Dumbledore watched him for a moment, then rose and moved to his desk, letting the younger wizard absorb the information at his own pace. 

When Lupin finally stopped he turned and asked, "Do we have any idea where they are?"

"Nothing firm," Dumbledore conceded, "My spies indicate that Voldemort has grown fond of using his family's old mansion near Little Hangleton. They also indicate that it is probably at least as well protected as Hogwarts. In that case checking to see if they are there, let alone bringing them out, becomes a very difficult matter."

"But not impossible," Lupin said thoughtfully, "After all, despite all the protections and ward charms on Hogwarts some have still managed to find their way in uninvited, haven't they? In fact, persons against whom we were specifically guarding have made their way in."

"Black?"

"Yes. As an animagus he got into Hogwarts at least twice or more during Harry's third year, didn't he?"

"Indeed." 

"A stray dog might be able to 'sniff around' the old manor, don't you think?" Lupin said.

"I have considered that option very carefully, Remus," Dumbledore said, "but I am stymied by my concerns."

"Which are?"

"I worry about sending Sirius to the place where both Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew are likely to be. To be safe... and to bring our colleagues out safely, he'll need to keep his wits about him and I'm not sure that will be possible in proximity to them."

"After what the two of them have put him and the people he loves through, it's natural he would have some resentment," Lupin conceded.

"And Sirius has quite a temper. He's always tended to lead with his emotions, not his head." Dumbledore sighed, "Doing that around Voldemort could easily cost him his life."

It was Lupin's turn to sigh. "Sirius wouldn't appreciate my saying so, but you're right. Twelve years with the Dementors in Azkaban hasn't helped, either. But do we have any other viable options? Minerva, for instance?"

" Minerva must stay here. She and Severus are the only ones who stand ready to protect Hogwarts after I'm gone." Dumbledore said in a remarkably even voice. He paused, then continued, "If we were to use Sirius what do you honestly think the chances of Peter recognizing him would be?"

"I have no idea," Remus said thoughtfully, "He'd be the most likely of any of us to not recognize another as an animagus... but I can't say he wouldn't with any certainty; not with the stakes this high."

"Still, if we told him to take special care to steer clear of Pettigrew so he wouldn't be recognized that might mitigate at least that problem." Dumbledore mused.

"Also," Remus said, "Voldemort is more likely than most wizards to recognize an animagus even if he doesn't know who that animagus is. Sirius would have to steer well clear of him for that reason as well."

Dumbledore and Remus looked at one another knowing they were agreed... and knowing that they never would have if they hadn't felt as desperate as they did.

  
  


By early dawn the next morning a black dog was trotting across a scrubby field in the direction of The Riddle House, Dumbledore's stern cautions still ringing in his ears. Part of him wanted to resent Dumbledore's obvious concern that he would see Peter and lose his head. Another part of him realized that he really couldn't say that wouldn't happen. The dog sighed.

He paused to look around and get his bearings. It was then that he heard the sound of other dogs nearby... two or three in that copse of trees just over the field. Well, this was good fortune. He turned and trotted in the direction of the sound prepared to meet his three new best friends.

They were mutts, all three. One clearly had a terrier or two in its recent lineage, whereas the other two seemed to be combination of retriever, setter, and beagle. They all had the tough look of animals who must take care of themselves. The larger dogs stiffened when they caught scent of Sirius. The terrier/mutt began yapping happily.

"Shut up you little git!" the darker of the large dogs growled.

"Duh! Big dog, strange dog, caution is called for," sniffed the brown one.

"Duh, yourself! IknowIknowIknow! I'm scaring him away with my barking!" the terrier insisted.

"Great job," growled Blackie as Sirius trotted into sight.

"Very effective, Ripper," sighed Brownie.

Sirius hung his head and lowered himself a bit on his haunches to try and indicate submissiveness. The other three dogs just stared. He rolled over playfully and put his paws over his nose. That always worked with humans.

"This one's weird," Brownie said and Sirius sat up very straight. 

"I understood that!" he barked.

"Oh, very good! What did you expect us to speak, CAT?" Blackie ruffed grumpily.

When Sirius was Hogwarts he had kept company with Prongs and Mooney. Since then he'd avoided other dogs. He'd no idea he would be able to talk to them! Damn, if he'd known that earlier it could have saved him a lot of trouble, especially this past year.

Once he'd gotten them to trust him Sirius had an interesting "conversation" with the stray dogs. True, they weren't sparkling conversationalists, but they could communicate with one another far better than he'd imagined dogs could. He'd learned that humans were living in the run down manor. It was a poor location to beg for scraps, they told him, but the people inside rarely came outside and didn't seem to care if animals sheltered in the outbuildings. The dogs foraged in town, but slept out at the manor. None could really tell Sirius much about the people in the house... the dogs got a very bad feeling when they got too near and thus tended to steer clear of it.

  
  


As Sirius moved toward the house, itself, a short time later his hackles rose and he understood what his canine friends had meant. About ten or twenty feet from the house every dog instinct told him to turn right around and not come back. Still he pushed forward. The gray early light wouldn't last much longer and he wanted to look around a bit before he needed to lie low. He hunched next to the foundation and took in the information his senses were disposed to give him. It looked run down, smelled moldy, and sounded... what was that? A dirty window near the ground a few feet away had noise on its other side.

Sirius moved over to the window, listening hard. It was coated with dirt and had a mass of untended weeds and grass growing in front of it. He pawed away the weeds and put his face next to the filthy glass. He could make out some light, but the rest was obscured by the dirt. He licked his nose and rubbed it on the window to clear a spot. Again he looked in.

A pale-faced man was looking up at him from the floor many feet below. He didn't recognize the man. He could be the healer Barnes from Dumbledore's description. Sirius licked his nose and cleared a larger space. Now the man could see he was a dog and looked... what? Relieved? Disappointed? He couldn't tell. There was fireplace with a fire and a bed with someone lying in it... very still. A woman. She fit Dumbledore's description of the professor. He'd bet his tail it was them! With that he turned and kicked up some dirt on the window. It stuck to the wet places nicely. He pawed the weeds back to something like their original position.

The Sun was growing brighter and he had an owl to send. He loped off for the field and for town. Truth be told he was happy to get away from that awful house.


	21. Negotiations

ICLYLM chapter 21 "Negotiations"

  
  


"What was it?" Phoebe asked when Jeffrey returned to his seat beside the bed. Blast, she hated having him sit there like he was keeping some sort of vigil...

"Odd," he said thoughtfully, "It was a dog. The dog actually cleared a spot on the glass with its nose."

"Smart dog."

"It also kicked up dirt to cover the clear spot it made before it left." Jeffrey said meaningfully.

"VERY smart dog," Phoebe said, closing her eyes against another spasm clutching at her abdomen. Jeffrey reached over and ran some warming energy into her to help her through the cramp. After a few moments she was able to lean back again into the pillows propped against the headboard. 

"You know it's like having a tremendous case of unrelenting food poisoning," She said wryly, "and it's not going to get better." She paused. Was he ready to hear what she had to say. Well, now was probably as good a time as any. " I don't care what Voldemort wants, there is no way I'm going to hold out long enough for this child to be viable," Phoebe continued trying not to grit her teeth.

"How do you feel about that?" Jeffrey said, in counselor mode.

"You're kidding, right?" 

"Not really."

"How am I supposed to feel?" Phoebe scoffed, then realized she was sounding like a cliche. "Look, I haven't the faintest notion how I should feel and few very clear ones on how I do feel."

"And those notions are?" Jeffrey prodded

"Boy, you must be bored, Jeffrey," Phoebe said dryly. He said nothing, continuing to wait with an annoyingly patient look on his face. Phoebe rolled her eyes.

"Alright, Jeffrey. I can tell you that I was looking forward to a longer life. Still, all things considered, I'm rather hoping I die soon."

"Why?" Jeffrey asked, this time sounding more like a friend than a counselor.

"The sooner I die the better the chance Voldemort can't use the child. I'll die happy knowing I at least foiled that little plan." she said grimly. "Trouble is, I have the distinct feeling that if I die, you die and I don't want that to happen. That's why I'm fighting it... we need time to figure how to get you the hell out of here. But we've got to think fast because I don't have all that much faith in my ability to fight."

Jeffrey looked at her, speechless. Phoebe pressed her advantage.

"The best solution all round is for you to go so I can die in peace," she ground out, clutching the blankets against another spasm.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Jeffery said in a stunned voice.

"You started it," Phoebe retorted with a small grin. Clearly she coped with humor.

"You know I can't do that, just abandon you."

"I really wish you would," Phoebe said scowling. "Look, I'm not being noble here! You can't save me and this is NOT a fun way to die! The sooner you get the hell away from here the sooner I can let it be over." 

"Merlin's name, you sound like a suicidal patient..." Jeffrey said, rising. He walked a few feet away and turned back abruptly, his eyes intent, "You ARE a suicidal patient aren't you?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "Hardly. I didn't cause this."

"But you're not interested in fighting it, either. By all reports you've been depressed lately, which is no wonder. You've been through a traumatic experience that you haven't dealt with... In normal circumstances I wouldn't consider it ethical to let you make this call."

"I can't believe this... I'm being poisoned by Voldemorts evil spawn and you're debating how long you should let me suffer BECAUSE I'm depressed? Your ethics can take a flying leap, Jeffrey! You're just not ready to admit there is nothing you can do to save the patient, doctor," Phoebe retorted hotly.

"You don't know that," Jeffrey said sharply.

"I think I do. I think you do, too, you stubborn git!" Phoebe didn't want to be insulting but she needed to shake him out of the romantically noble notion that he could rescue this particular patient. 

"I'm stubborn, you say?" Jeffrey replied incredulously.

"Jeffrey," Phoebe said calmly, deciding on another tack, "What exactly do you think you can do? Seriously."

"Well, I'm working to keep the toxins at bay and... well... there's really nothing else I can do without terminating," he admitted reluctantly.

"Jeffrey, please don't take this the wrong way," Phoebe said tightly, "but the way I'm feeling tells me the toxins aren't being held at bay very well."

Jeffrey sat heavily on the chair, "I know."

"Honestly, as a doctor, where do you see this case going?"

Jeffrey shook his head and said nothing. She was right. If things didn't change she would die and so long as she had to suffer as she was sooner probably was better than later... but he refused to accept that death was the only option... he couldn't accept that.

"Your prognosis is pretty grim if we stay here," Jeffrey said, "but if both of us can get the hell out of here I can save you, I know I can."

"How, exactly, are we supposed to escape with me in this condition?" Phoebe asked, "And how far do you think we'd get with me in this state if we did?"

Jeffrey looked hard at Phoebe. He had been debating with himself about telling her Severus was in the mansion. He hadn't wanted to exacerbate guilt the guilt she was clearly feeling about his being here. Now, however, hope might be more important. Besides, Severus was bound to return to the basement at some time or other and she'd find out anyway. He took a breath.

"Well, we'd likely have a little help, Phoebe," he explained carefully, "Severus is here too."

Phoebe's eyes widened and for a moment she looked as if she had just been given a tremendous gift. Then her face fell and hardened as she looked down at her hands, which were still gripping the blankets. "Damn," she said softly, "They've got him, too. I suppose they brought him here to assist in this little breeding experiment?" she asked bitterly.

"Yes, they did," Jeffrey answered evenly.

"What the hell have I done?" she whispered.

"Nothing wrong," Jeffrey said firmly.

"How can you, of all people, say that?" Phoebe asked incredulously, "You're sitting here inches from death because of me, Severus is upstair in the same situation because of me, Voldemort is preparing to unleash his progeny upon the world because of me."

"Oh, and this is what you intended to happen, was it?" Jeffrey asked.

"Of course not."

"Phoebe, it seems to me that all you did was take the risk of loving someone. Some mistakes were made, yes, but nothing here is your fault. The bad things that have happened have because of evil men doing evil things... that's not your fault."

Phoebe looked extremely doubtful, but held her peace. 

"Why isn't Severus down here with us?" She asked, changing the subject.

"They still think he's one of them," Jeffrey said, glancing across the room at the door. They'd been quiet so far. Besides, Dunderhead didn't have the attention span to keep up with steady listening. Still, he lowered his voice.

"His cover hasn't been blown yet. He's let me know he's looking for an avenue of escape. He does come down occasionally and he keeps up the Death Eater act. He treats me very poorly when he comes. It would be comical if the situation weren't so serious. He's got the guard fooled, at any rate." Jeffrey explained hurriedly. "I don't know how you're expected to act, though."

"Well, how blown is my cover?" Phoebe asked trying hard to ignore the grinding pain.

"Not very, I don't think," Jeffrey mused, "You were unconscious when they came for us. Then again, I have the impression Voldemort was very displeased you didn't contact him with word of the pregnancy. I think it's a pretty safe bet he took that as a sign of betrayal."

"Damn," Phoebe said, giving up and grinding her teeth.

"Why, what were you thinking?" Jeffrey asked.

"If Voldemort thought both Severus and I were still loyal it would only seem to be a matter of controlling you. We could pretend to put the imperious curse on you... hell, we could really put the imperious curse on you it wouldn't be a strain for you to treat me, after all. Then we'd have freer access to the house and a better chance of getting out."

Jeffrey was nodding, "Yes, yes, I see."

"But you're right, Voldemort could scarcely think I'm still loyal."

"Unless..." Jeffrey mused aloud.

"What?" Phoebe said looking at him intently

"Unless the first thing you did when you woke up was accuse me of keeping you unconscious against your will. I would eventually have to break down and confess Dumbledore made me do it so I could terminate the child over your objections. I was just dragging my feet because I agreed with him but had a problem with the whole lack of consent thing."

"Noble but conflicted, interesting." Phoebe said, "Well, we might as well give it a shot... if it doesn't work we're not worse off since Voldemort probably believes me to be a traitor anyway. So, who else knows I've regained consciousness?"

"Maybe the guard, maybe not. He's pretty dim, he's likely still asleep in the stair. No one else has been here yet today, it's early yet."

"Okay, then," Phoebe said resolutely, "I've been talking as I've come around but only in the last little while have my senses really cleared. Now I'm angry. Alright?"

"Good."

Phoebe took a deep breath, "WHERE THE HELL AM I?" she bellowed, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, YOU ASS?"

Jeffrey jumped to his feet, "All I've done is treat you as best I can, Professor!" He said, loudly.

"Oh, have you?" Phoebe retorted in kind, "How is it then that the last thing I remember is your feeding me some potion or other in your office? Pretty strange I'd wake up somewhere else, isn't it?" 

There was a loud creak outside the door. Dunderhead was listening.

  
  


A tawny owl fluttered down onto the ground next to Snuffles as he sat in the wood watching the house below. The Owl lay a folded, wax-sealed, paper in front of him. Then, realizing not treat would likely be coming from a dog, it took flight and disappeared. Sirius regarded the paper and pushed it with his nose. He tried laying a paw on it and getting his nose under the flap of folded paper. It was no good. Taking the note in his mouth, he trotted off to find a cave or a clump of bushes.

It didn't take long. He crawled into the midst of the patch of weeds and brush and listened carefully. There wasn't much to hear. The wood was unnaturally quiet and he didn't like it. He changed back to his human form. Moving as little as possible to keep from being gouged by the surrounding briars, he opened the note:

"Continue to watch. Send word of changes or departures. Will communicate soon."

Simple enough, he supposed. With a sigh he put the letter down and changed back into the dog. Now he was smaller and had a tougher hide, he began to dig a hole in the ground with his paws. When it was sufficiently deep he pushed the note in with his nose. The then turned and "left his mark" on the parchment. When he turned back around he was pleased to see the ink running in the yellow liquid. He replaced the dirt atop the note. That should do it. Supposing he ought to be go "make a patrol" in the fields surrounding the mansion, he emerged from the bushes and began to trot across the field. All in All, it was a good thing he did.


	22. While there's still time

ICLYLM chapter 23 "Before It's Too Late"

  
  


The rest of the morning past hour after interminable hour. Phoebe was so ill that, often, conversation was impossible. When she was feeling less sick she tended to doze off, which Jeffrey felt was a good thing. He'd have to ask Severus to brew a mild sleeping draught to extend her periods of rest.

A shuffle outside the door indicated that Dunderhead had likely roused himself to collect the lunch tray. He could have it, Jeffrey thought in disgust as he looked at the now empty tuna and peach tins.

The door opened and Jeffrey turned to face ...Severus. He almost smiled before remembering.

"You." he spat, feigning scorn.

"It's hardly a pleasure for me, I assure you," Snape hissed as the door shut behind him, "What do you need now, Healer?" Snape continued in a loud voice before moving away from the door toward the bed.

"Is she still unconscious?" He said softly

"No, she's asleep now," Jeffrey whispered quickly, "But listen, we've been talking and we've decided on a plan." Severus raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Jeffrey forged ahead, "We've decided to act as if I had drugged her to terminate the pregnancy against her will and that she's rather angry with me."

"Why?" Snape asked, incredulous.

"We're hoping that if they think she's still on their side it will increase our chances of escape. After all, if you both are still loyal death eaters it's merely a question of controlling me, isn't it?"

"I don't like it, Jeffrey," Snape said, "It only puts you in a more dangerous position and I don't like the place you stand now."

"Listen," Jeffrey said urgently, "We've got to think of something-"

"Of course we do," Snape interrupted.

"No, you don't understand! Phoebe told me she wants me to find a way to leave so she can die and kill the fetus with her." 

Snape blanched visibly at these words. Jeffrey didn't have time to soothe him. He continued, "The fact is that she's not too far off now. She's fighting because she's figured they'll kill me if she dies. But she doesn't have a will of her own to live. Even if she did..."

"You can't save her without terminating can you?" Snape asked, tensely

"I don't think so." Jeffrey said grudgingly.

"And I'll be dammed if I let that monster get his claws on a child," Phoebe said, causing both wizards to jump sharply. She opened her eyes and regarded both men, appraisingly. Were they going to fight her on this?

"Phoebe," Snape began.

Yes they were. But Snape seemed unable to say more. After an awkward silence Jeffrey spoke, "I filled Severus in on our conversation, our plan."

"And I think it's a very poor idea. I can't endorse it," Snape said immediately.

"Why not?" Phoebe asked trying not to sound too irritated.

"Because if you convince them they'll likely just kill Jeffrey on the spot to prevent him killing the child and then find another healer." Snape whispered grimly.

Phoebe's eyes widened in horror, "We've already started, we had a good row for the benefit of Dunder- ah, the guard."

Snape frowned. "Well he is a bit of a Dunderhead, all we can do is stop the act right now and pray his stupidity favors us."

"Severus," Phoebe said with a hint of desperation that arrested the wizard's attention, "You've got to get yourself and Jeffrey out of here, you HAVE to. Promise me that you won't let me have- Promise you'll do it." 

Snape frowned and Jeffrey looked at Phoebe appraisingly

"Promise we won't let you have what, Phoebe?" he asked gently.

Phoebe bit her lip but couldn't seem to speak. Jeffrey pondered for a moment. Was he above using his healer's gift even in this situation? No, he decided, he was not. He moved closer to Phoebe and put a hand on her shoulder sending a judicious stream of energy into her as he asked the question again. This time she answered.

"Killed you both as well, alright Jeffrey?" she spat miserably, "I need to know I won't have gotten you both killed, too."

Jeffrey looked from Phoebe to Severus. Her face was drawn with pain and lined in guilt. His was arrested, still. The dark eyes seemed even more fathomless than usual. If Jeffrey had not caught a slight tremor of Severus' hand he might not have known what to do. 

He saw the hand tremble, however, and caught it in both of his own. Severus looked at him in surprise.

"You two must talk... now, before it's too late," Jeffrey said, squeezing Severus' hand and letting go. He then walked to the far opposite side of the room, picked up one of the books Severus had left and sat against the door with a meaningful look. Severus watched him open the book and bend over it intently, giving them as much privacy as he was able.

His eyes turned back to Phoebe who was studying the wall beside her and gripping the blanket so hard her knuckles were bone white. He didn't know what to do. He had never... he had no real experience just feeling the things he did, let alone trying to talk about them. He longed to comfort her somehow, but he didn't know how to do this either. He felt lost.

He sank heavily in the chair pulled close up to the bed and Phoebe turned sharply, her face betraying concern. As her eyes met his they grew bright with unshed tears. At this Severus felt the hollow despair that had been lurking within him explode to fill his chest. Before he could think his head sank down to the bed as he realized he, too, was fighting tears. Suddenly, however, he felt a new feeling displacing the despair. Anger. Hard, unyielding anger.

"Damn it all to hell!" he whispered hoarsely rasing his head to face a startled Phoebe, "Damn it no matter any of our mistakes this is not our fault. Not mine, not yours! The evil creature up stair and all his power hungry little sycophants caused this!"

Phoebe's face twisted and she looked at him with a desperate desire to believe him, to agree with him.

"Dammit, Phoebe," Severus said forcing himself to finally say the words they had both avoided, "Dammit, he raped you!" His fist came down hard on the blankets, seemingly of its own accord, "he raped you!"

Phoebe flinched hard when Severus' fist came down and her whole body had frozen, muscles clenched. Severus reached out instinctively and she flinched away from his touch. But the second flinch seemed to shake something free in the exhausted and frightened witch. Suddenly she dropped her head in her arms raking her hands roughly through her hair as if trying to pull it out.

"Phoebe," Severus said, grabbing her wrists as gently as he could, "Stop, please."

She sat up and for a moment tried to pull away. Again she was biting her lip, her fists clenching, her eyes searching desperately for his own. Severus found he didn't need someone to tell him what to do, after all. He released one of her wrists and put his hand on her back and pulled her to him.

She stiffened but did not pull back. He moved to sit on the bed, gathering her closer. Then he held her, whether for his comfort or his own he did not know. Slowly Phoebe relaxed against him as he ran one hand up and down her back. Soon she pressed her face closer to his chest and soon he felt her wet, warm tears soaking through his robes. 

"I'm going to get Jeffrey and myself out of here," He whispered, "but only if you come too."

From across the room came a sharp cough. Jeffrey was sitting up very straight and very stiff. He caught Severus' eye and jerked his head toward the door even as he scrambled to his feet. With finely honed reflexes Severus was on his feet. He kissed Phoebe so quickly and lightly it was barely a breath against her lips before he was across the room rummaging through the wooden box on the desk.

"What exactly are you using it for, drinking water?" Snape snapped at Jeffrey as the door began to open.

"Fine drink that would make," Jeffrey said snidely, "but if you don't want to give me what I need to keep the child alive-"

"Fine!" Snape spat, "I shall make more and have it brought." With that he straightened up and swept from the room.

Dunderhead looked dimly from Jeffrey back toward the stair onto which Snape had disappeared. He shuffled over for the "lunch tray" and followed Snape out the door, shutting it with the unmistakable click of the lock.

Jeffrey moved to the bed. Phoebe had wrapped her arms around her torso and curled into a ball. He sat beside her on the bed without a word and reached over to send some comforting energy into her. She was dangerously ill, but with the right treatment he might be able to fix that. He wasn't sure he could mend the other things which ailed her.


	23. All There?

ICLYLM chapter 23 "All There?"

  
  


(A/N: Thanks to all who have been reviewing... it really helps!)

  
  


Dumbledore finished reading the parchment, sighed heavily and let his head drop to his hands. Lupin didn't like that and moved sharply toward the Headmaster. 

"No, no, it's alright, Remus," Dumbledore said raising his head. "Sirius reports that Jeffrey Barnes and Phoebe Taylor are in the Riddle Mansion. They're in the basement. He looks fine, she looks ill."

"And Severus?" Lupin asked

"No sign of him," Dumbledore said heavily, "But Sirius may not have been there long enough to see him. He's probably there as well."

The owl who had brought the message gave a soft hoot and shifted impatiently. Dumbledore reached for a small parchment and scribbled a short note, attaching it to the owl and carrying him to the window.

"I told him to keep watch and send word if anyone leaves," Dumbledore said to Lupin as he resumed his seat. 

"So you think they're all there?" Lupin asked. Dumbledore nodded, "Including Voldemort?" Dumbledore sighed and nodded again. "So, the trick is to get them out under Voldemort's nose. Not exactly a cakewalk, I'll wager," Lupin mused.

"No, but we have the advantage in knowing where they are."

"Won't they know we're looking for them?"

"Voldemort took pains to have Severus send word he would not be back. Still, he should expect us to be looking for Barnes and Taylor. Still, he can't be too worried we'll find them if he didn't try to cover his tracks by sending more communications. If Voldemort leaves the manor for any amount of time that would be a clear sign he's not too worried.

"Voldemort has few weaknesses but one is overconfidence in his own abilities. He has undoubtedly put magical wards up around the mansion. I wouldn't be surprised if he feels they are more than sufficient so long as he lets a few death eaters linger."

"That's all well and good, Albus," Remus said, "Except for the fact that his warding and guarding charms ARE probably more than sufficient to guard the place. I don't know if I, for instance, could break them. I don't know of many who could ...aside from you."

"Indeed, and Voldemort does not expect me to leave Hogwarts these days... I doubt he expects me to tend to this little situation personally."

Lupin's eyes widened, "You're thinking of going... of coming with me- us?"

"Not thinking, planning on it." Dumbledore said with a steely glint in his eye, "The stakes are far too high... not simply because people I care about are there... though that might be more sufficient cause than Voldemort imagines," Dumbledore noted grimly

"The child." Lupin said.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied gravely, "No matter what happens to the pregnancy, he must not be allowed to get his hands on the child... or whatever is left of it."

Lupin blanched. He had been thinking the child was a danger if born into Voldemort's hands. He hadn't even considered what the Evil Wizard might be able to do even with a miscarried, deceased child. He repressed a shudder and tried to focus on discussing exactly how he and Dumbledore were going to get Barnes, Taylor, and Snape out of there.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Snuffles trotted across the field toward the house, stopping occasionally to nose at bushes and hillocks in dog-like fashion. Eventually he made it to the outbuilding the three mutts used as sleeping quarters. It was some sort of small barn and was far enough out for the warding charms on the house not to raise his hackles. 

He contemplated keeping watch from here but, with a sigh, realized it wasn't quite close enough. He'd need to work his way closer, building by building until he had a better view. Agrippa's Wand, he hoped it wouldn't be too close. 

He was checking the view from the garden shed when three wizards apparated on the garden lawn. One was fairly tall and thin. On either side of the thin wizard two thick-set wizards stood. All three paused a moment then turned and entered the house. Damn his faulty memory! The three looked familiar but he couldn't place them to save his life!

Carefully, he crept forward, all senses on the alert. He had made it to a veranda when he heard the shuffle of approaching feet. Quickly, he crawled through the overgrown bushes surrounding the porch to hide beneath. One man, heavy footed; another, light of step; a third clunking heavily; now a fourth... not heavy just clumsy sounding... Snuffles took careful note of the footsteps on the rotting wood above him. Finally a light, but clearly tired set of footsteps make their way across the porch. Silently he crawled forward on his belly to get a better look at the garden from between the trunks of the bushes. The same three wizards as before, he noted. The fourth was rather shorter and very, very familiar. Snuffles felt a growl building in his chest... very familiar. A glint of silver at the end of one of his sleeves made it certain then. HIM. Snuffles dug his claws into the earth and felt his body tense to spring.

NO! No, he mustn't! All would be lost. He swore! With a tremendous effort he swallowed the growl and made his body settle to the ground and wait. It was fortunate he did, for the fifth wizard, a dark, thin man, looked back at the house anxiously. Snape! Then, with swift movements of wands the five wizards disapparated. Suppressing a last snarl at the thought of Wormtail, Snuffles crawled carefully out from under the porch and slunk around to the french doors around the corner. Now was as good a time as any to see if Voldemort was here. Then he needed to send an owl...

Low to the ground in the gathering dusk, Snuffles edged his head forward through the riot of weeds and grass choking the outside of the doors. The people inside would need magic to get those open against all that had grown there, Snuffles thought. He squinted and looked carefully waiting for his eyes to adjust to looking into the dim room on the other side of the dusty glass. 

A snake slithered around the base of a wing-backed chair that was turned three-quarters of the way away from him toward a fireplace. He could see a man seated there but could tell nothing about him save he was tall and quite thin. As he watched, the snake slithered around the man's leg and up to his lap. An arm reached out to gather up the large snake as the man rose, his back to Snuffles. His hackles were now so on end that it actually hurt. He knew he was looking at Voldemort. As he struggled to master the hatred surging within him The Dark Lord raised his wand and disappeared.

His emotions were so confused that, for a moment Snuffles didn't really appreciate what had happened. Voldemort had left the manor. The largest obstacle to their saving the Healer and the Professor had just been removed! He needed to get word to Dumbledore swiftly, there was no telling how long Voldemort would be gone.

He resisted the urge to gallop across the lawn... he didn't know who was still in the Manor, who might see. It was agony in his excited state, but Snuffles made his way away from the Manor in the same careful way in which he had approached it. At long last, he gained the small barn and was greeted by his mutt friends. Merlin was smiling on him...

"Whad'ya go to the house for?" Ripper yipped.

Snuffles paused, wondering how best to make the three dogs understand.

"The men there have taken some of my pack and I want to get them back." he finally said.

The three dogs growled, but not at Snuffles, at the house.

"I'll go, I'll get 'em!" Ripper yipped as the other two dogs rolled their eyes and Blackie cuffed him.

"No, I have help coming. I need to go... call to them... can you watch the house and tell me if any more men come or go?" Snuffles barked.

"Yes. Go." Blackie ruffed, turning his eyes toward the house with a low growl, "go."

Snuffles did as he was told, sprinting out across the field toward the town.


	24. Fuel for the Fire?

ICLYLM chapter 24 "Fuel for the Fire?"

  
  


(A/N: The wonderful Jeffrey Barnes is appearing in this adventure with the kind permission of his creator: Raven Dancer)

  
  


Sirius didn't bother trying to send an owl. He skidded to a stop behind an old shed he'd been using as an appartion point, and moved inside. He transformed and waved his wand, disappearing in an instant and re-appearing in the Forbidden Forest outside the border of the Hogwarts grounds. He transformed back into Snuffles and ran headlong for the castle as fast as four legs could carry him.

Several students emerging from dinner in the great hall squawked in surprise at the sight of the large black dog running through the entrance hall. The dog was up the stairs in a flash and soon they were all laughing at a comment Fred Weasley made about the dog heading up to scare Trelawney.

Sirius was breathless as he transformed, once again, into himself in front of a surprised Lupin and Dumbledore.

"Gone," he panted, "Voldemort's gone. Don't know how long. Wormtail, three others with him." 

"Now's our chance." Lupin said tensely and both he and Dumbledore began to move toward the door.

"Snape's gone too," Black panted.

Dumbledore stopped dead.

"He was the last of the wizards who went out into the garden to apparate... I don't think anyone but Voldemort can apparate in and out of the house itself," Black said, breathing more easily, now. "He didn't look as if he wanted to go, but he went."

Dumbledore's face had a touch of unmistakable sadness to it as he replied, "We must go now and bring Phoebe and Jeffrey out... it may be our only chance and the cost of not doing so is too high."

"But Severus-" Lupin began.

"Sirius, did it appear that Professor Snape was being held prisoner or compelled to act?"

"No, he didn't look happy, mind you, but he wasn't being forced." Black said thoughtfully.

"Then we may hope that he is still regarded as a loyal death eater. If we do not betray his true loyalties he may be able to return to us on his own. In any case, we have little choice but to go now and rescue those we can."

  
  
  
  


Dunderhead was in a pouty mood when he brought in a dinner tray consisting mainly of crackers and cheese. He dropped it on the desk under the window and began to shuffle moodily toward the door. Before he could think Jeffrey spoke,

"What's wrong?"

Dunderhead stopped and turned back with a dull, suspicious look, "Eh?"

Jeffrey thought fast. Yes, this was good... he could maybe earn some confidence, some sympathy... "What's wrong? You seem upset." He said in his warmest most unthreatening voice.

"Humph. 'S your fault."

"I'm sorry, what did we do?" Jeffrey asked feigning concern... boy this one was dull witted, thank Merlin.

"I can' go, I have to watch you." he said grumpily

Others had left!

"Oh, I see," Jeffrey said companionably, "Well, I'm sure you're not the only one who couldn't go?" Internally he crossed his fingers...

"Me and th' one in the kitchen's all that got left." Dunderhead said more grumpily still.

Jeffrey repressed a grin. How this idiot became a death eater in the first place escaped him, but he was grateful. Phoebe, who had been listening intently caught his eye. She knew this was their chance, they just needed to get past Dunderhead, go fetch Severus and get the hell out! Dunderhead's back was mostly toward Phoebe so he didn't see her hands close carefully around the bowl of a heavy old oil lamp. Biting her lip she slipped out of bed.

Jeffrey moved slightly so that Dunderhead would turn his back on Phoebe more fully.

"Well, that hardly seems fair!" He said sympathetically, "Surely you'll get to go another time?"

"No. 'S only tonight they're at Malfoys. Rich git." Dunderhead muttered. He opened his mouth to give a further opinion of Mafloy but was prevented from doing so by the heavy glass base of an oil lamp being smashed, two-handed, into the back of his head. Dunderhead collapsed as the sharp smell of kerosene filled the air. Pheobe sat very heavily on the floor beside the unconscious Dunderhead, reaching over to wipe her kerosene-soaked hands on Dunderhead's robes.

Jeffrey looked at the ruin of the lamp around Phoebe and raised his eyebrows, "Rather a heavy blow, don't you think?" he said his voice laced with amusement.

"I felt it best to hit him extra hard since that head is so thick," Phoebe replied with grim humour.

Even as she replied, Jeffrey was rummaging through Dunderhead's robes. With a small cry of victory he pulled out a very worn wand.

"Move back." He told Phoebe raising it and pointing at Dunderhead, "Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!" he barked in rapid succession. "That ought to hold him! Now, lets go fetch Severus, shall we?"

Phoebe moved to rise but was unable. She muttered a curse under her breath and tried again, with little success. Jeffrey was beside her in a flash, pulling her to her feet and feeding some energy into her. 

"Okay, I'LL go fetch Severus... you'll wait at the top of the stair," He said pointing the wand at her and helping her along with a levitation charm. Once they were at the top of the stair Jeffrey paused, indecision written on his face. Finally he shoved the wand at Phoebe. "Just in Case" he said, "Stay put, We'll be back." With that he slipped off into the darkened mansion in search of the kitchens.

Phoebe noticed that the kerosene on her hands was starting to burn the skin. She raised the wand and whispered "Lavarse". The burning of the kerosene was gone but her ears were assaulted with a loud, tinny ringing. "What the.." she thought just before she fainted.

  
  


Jeffrey had made several wrong turnings but, thankfully hadn't run into any death eaters. Dunderhead might have been as thick as a post, but at least he seemed to be accurate. Finally, he stumbled into the dark dining room and began to search for the second door that would doubtless lead to the kitchens. 

He found it and moved quickly through the passage with the sideboard through to the kitchen. He could see a wizard sitting in the flickering light of a small candle.

"Hey!" he called excitedly, "We-" his voice died in his throat.

The wizard had turned his face toward him. It was not Severus, but whoever he was looked angry... and mean. Jeffrey backed away as the wizard went for his wand. Throwing caution to the wind, Jeffrey turned began to stumble back through the dark passageway at a dead run.


	25. Dark Marked Ones Only

ICLYLM chapter 25: "Dark Marked Ones Only"

  
  


[A/N: Wow! Thanks to all of my wonderful multi-reviewers... Kazza, Ayod Botla, LoPotter, & bdwrm... it's like having you along for the ride to see your new reviews. Same to y'all: Debbi, Rockchick, MopHead and her Daemon, and Caius Julius! Haven't "seen" you in a while but I hope you're still out there rooting for the characters.

Have I told you lately that Jeffrey Barnes is appearing with the kind permission of his creator, Raven Dancer?]

  
  
  
  


Dumbledore moved rather swiftly for a man of his years Black noted as he turned back into Snuffles and followed the Headmaster and his friend out of the offices. Soon they were moving past yet another group of surprised students, pausing only long enough for Dumbledore to pull a prefect aside to give her a message for McGonagall.

Once deep in the forest, Black changed once again. He was beginning to lose track of how many times he'd transformed back and forth in the last hour or so, but he was beginning to tire from the energy required. Moments later they were in the old shed looking out into the gathering darkness.

Black sighed, "I suggest you two make your way toward the house through the wood while I go straight there and have a look about. I'll meet you at the edge of the wood closest to the House." He said. Dumbledore nodded and Black became a dog once again. He waved his tail weakly as encouragement and was off.

Brownie trotted out to meet Snuffles as he approached the small barn. "No one comes. No one goes." he ruffed. 

Ripper was only too glad to report nearly the same findings, "I keep men away! No men come!" he yipped.

"Thank You" Snuffles said, "I brought help, but they are men. They are from my pack."

"You are in a pack with men? Brownie asked

"He is a pet." Blackie said shrewdly, if not a bit sadly.

"We will go to get the others and not come back," Snuffles continued, "Thank you for your help." 

To his surprise the two larger dogs cuffed him lightly with the tops of their heads. Ripper, on the other hand just bounced up and down a bit and went back to "keeping the men away."

  
  


Black trotted to the edge of the wood to meet Albus and Remus. He was probably safe as a man at this point but he just didn't have the energy to transform back and forth anymore. He'd stay a dog until he needed to be a man. Albus and Remus didn't say anything about his continued canine state, they merely followed him as he led the way to the house in the darkness of the night which had finally fallen. There was a very soft "ruff" from the direction of the barn as they passed and Snuffles let out a soft "ruff" in return. Lupin cocked his head but said nothing. 

As they approached the house the Snuffles' hackles rose as usual, but he trotted forward resolutely anyway. Suddenly he realized he was alone. Dumbledore and Lupin had stopped dead just shy of the point where his hackles always rose. He ran back quickly and an anxious Lupin said, "Warding Charms, Dark Marked ones only."

Dumbledore had his wand out and was working to disarm the wards. Lupin looked from the Headmaster to the animagus and finally said, "Sirius, go on ahead and find a way to where they are if you can."

Snuffles went immediately to the door out of which he had seen the wizards exit before. The basement window had been in that part of the house. His ears pricked immediately upon entering the dark manor. Someone was shuffling around about halfway across the house. Snuffles kept his ears perked and began to look about trying to figure where the room he had seen would be in relation to where he was now. He went right. After casting about a bit his nose caught the sharp smell of kerosene. That was odd. His instinct told him to follow. Soon his ears caught the sound of raspy breathing. The smell and sound seemed to be coming from the same place. He turned a corner and saw the dark form a person slumped against the wall. A shiny hand print on the wall reflected the emerging moonlight and gave off the scent of kerosene. The figure was the source of the ragged breathing. He trotted over. It was the Professor. She was unconscious. He nudged her with a cold nose. Nothing. 

After a moment of indecision he left her to look around the doorway next to her. Stairs. More kerosene fumes. Basement, then? He trotted quickly down them as his nose was assaulted with the overpowering stench of the lamp fuel. Most of the smell came from an unconscious man in Death Eater robes on the floor. The doctor was no where to be seen. What the hell had happened to him?

Snuffles was half-way back up the stairs when the sound of crashing and banging began at the other side of the house. Without a thought he raced the rest of the way up the stairs and leapt over the still form of the professor toward the sounds. A man came crashing out of a room into the corridor. Snuffles recognized him... the doctor! There was someone chasing him through the room from which he had come... a room with a great deal of china from the sound of it.

Snuffles let out what he hoped was a reassuring "ruff" before charging through the swinging door. A second later he had plowed into the wizard chasing the doctor as hard as he could, knocking the wind out of him. The doctor had followed him. He promptly grabbed a large piece of china from the floor and brought it down on the other wizard's head as he struggled for air. He felt around in the now unconscious wizard's robes until he found the man's wand. He promptly cast a knock out and then a binding spell on him as he had on Dunderhead downstairs.

Snuffles watched curiously as the doctor leaned over, put his hands on his knees, and proceeded to take several very deep breaths. He then looked over at Snuffles and grinned. "Smart dog, VERY smart dog," he said taking a final deep breath and straightening up. As both he and Snuffles approached the dining room door their ears were met with another awful ruckus and both their hearts leapt to their throats. Was Voldemort back?


	26. Excelsior

ICLYLM chapter 26: "Excelsior"

  
  


[A/N: Jeffrey Barnes, who is acquitting himself quite nicely, appears through the gracious permission of his creator, Raven Dancer... Raven, stop reading my stuff and go finish the next chapter of APTBB!

Ms. Ivanova, glad to have you aboard. Here we go again...]

  
  


They had no choice. Both Jeffrey Barnes and Snuffles raced toward the noise coming from near what they both knew to be the entrance to the basement. Had Voldemort returned? The guard somehow awakened? They braced themselves for anything... except what met their eyes when they got there.

Brownie and Blackie were untangling themselves from part of a window and frame. It looked very much as if they had both jumped through the window. Meanwhile Ripper was bouncing up and down outside the window trying to get high enough to get through.

Snuffles barked in surprise.

"Heard noise, came to help." Blackie said simply.

Brownie nudged the unconscious Phoebe, "This one from your man-pack?" Brownie questioned.

"Yes. This one, too. I need to get them away from this bad place," Snuffles said.

Jeffrey looked at the scene before him in bewilderment. All the dogs seemed to be talking to one another. Well, almost all of them. The little one was still bouncing up and down and yipping outside. Damn, these had to be the smartest dogs he'd ever seen. It was like something out of a Walt Disney Film. No one would ever believe this. 

Before he could contemplate this further, Phoebe's breathing took on a distinct high-pitched wheeze. Her airway was beginning to close. He needed to move. He bent down and grasped the witch under her arms and began to pull. Days without much food or sleep had taken their toll and he found it a harder job than he expected. The large dark dog who had come to the dining room immediately grabbed some of Phoebe's robes in his mouth and began to pull in the direction Jeffrey was. 

He made a muffled bark through a mouth full of fabric and the other two dogs did the same. It was in this manner they made their way out of the house and began to move across the garden lawn. The dark dog let go of Phoebe's robes for just a moment to bark sharply, taking them in his mouth again and pulling hard toward the left. Jeffrey just followed the dog's lead. "If he's not an animagus," the healer thought, "I'm going to feel a right idiot later."

  
  


Lupin spotted it first... the strange dark thing moving slowly across the lawn. It was hunched over and seemed to have too many legs... and a few tails! Lupin shook his head in hopes of clearing it just as a small terrier mutt came zipping round the corner of the house rushing past the odd creature toward Dumbledore and himself. Of course... those were dogs and... A person! One person dragging another!

Albus, look! he hissed. The Headmaster spared the moving figures only a slight glance before turning his attention back to his wand and the invisible impenetrable wall. "Be ready," the older wizard said tensely, "It will b a small hole and it won't last long." 

Lupin watched the headmaster and the moving figures tensely, his head turning from one to the other as if he were at a tennis match. His hand played nervously along his wand and he tried not to fidget with the tension and inactivity. He wanted to scream to both Albus and Barnes to hurry but he knew that would not help.

As the healer drew close Lupin recognized Snuffles and two dogs he dd not know helping Barnes to pull Taylor toward them. He itched to help, but knew it was no good. The little dog wanted to help, too. It kept latching on to Taylor's robes next to Snuffles, and giving a tug only to give up, race to the wall and Lupin, and return to try again. They were nearly abreast of them when Dumbledore called out in a strained voice. "Remus, I need your help," he gasped, "Aim 'excelsior' at this spot." The headmaster used his head to indicate the place his own wand was pointing. Lupin mustered all the strength he could and aimed his wand at the tip of Albus' yelling "Excelsior!" As he did Dumbledore's twitching wand began to move slowly upward with sharp jerking motions as sweat poured from the headmaster. 

"Here!" He called hoarsely, "Jeffrey through here, hurry!" The older wizard was now quaking visibly with the effort and Lupin began to feel the effects of the charm as well. He wand felt as if it were made of tons of steel and an invisible hand seemed to be pressing his wand downward even as he struggled to bring it up. A voice seemed to whisper in his ear. "It's too heavy, let go... just let go..." Remus felt his hands go slick with sweat as his body, too, began to quake. Dark spots were beginning to gather at the edge of his vision when he suddenly felt as if something very large had slammed him in the chest, knocking him down to the cold, hard ground.

He struggled to find his feet and pull himself up even as he looked about desperately. There! Three figures seemed tangled in an untidy heap as the dogs nudged them urgently. The small dog ran up to him yipping like mad. Remus shook his head, what did it want?

  
  


For his part, Ripper was growing panicky... he was shouting it over and over but the man didn't understand. "The Bad men are coming, the bad men are coming!" He turned back to Snuffles, "Can't you make them understand?" he barked. Snuffles then did something strange, he turned into a man! Ripper stopped barking in shock. Brownie said "Ah" and Blackie muttered, "Of course.". 

Snuffles the man was lying on the ground. He called out to the man Ripper was trying to talk to who rushed over and waved his stick at the other three. All of them seemed to regain their senses somewhat. The man spoke with them urgently shaking his stick. One of them handed the female they'd been dragging a stick and she raised it weakly and disappeared. The other two men did the same. It was just Snuffles and the other man, now. They were arguing and Snuffles rolled over turning back into a dog and growling at the other man who gave him a strange, lost look, and disappeared with a wave of his stick. 

"Comeon!" Ripper heard Blackie call to Brownie as he took hold of Snuffles' collar with his mouth. Brownie did likewise and they began to half-drag the exhausted animal toward the garden shed. Snuffles tried his best to walk and Ripper ran over to give him a push from below. Wizards began appearing and rushing toward the place the other humans had been just as the dogs managed to drag Snuffles in to the shed and into a corner full of mouldy burlap sacks. 

A terrible ruckus ensued from the house soon after, but Snuffles had fallen into a deep sleep and the other dogs had settled down to watch over him and wait for the humans in the house to calm down.


	27. safe & sound?

ICLYLM: Chapter 27

  
  


Phoebe had long ago lost consciousness of her body. Her head seemed to swim in a reality all it's own as she fought to stay conscious. Somehow she found herself outside on the ground. An anxious face swam into view. Jeffrey. He was asking her something. She tried very, very hard to hear him, to understand.

"Apparate?" He seemed to say. He was holding out a wand toward her. He wanted her to apparate. No, he wanted to know if she could. Could she? If she could take the wand she supposed so. Her mind struggled to connect with her arm, her hand. She looked down and saw that she was, indeed, reaching out. She saw her fingers close around the wand. Alright, then. Merlin help her, she was going to give it a go.

As she raised her wand she heard Jeffrey yelling at her, but he sounded as if he were underwater, and the world dissolved around her.

She appeared off kilter and at least a foot or two off the ground. She knew this because the ground immediately rushed up toward her face. After the impact she mustered the energy to turn her head so she could breathe and noted that she was in a wood. Well, then, she'd probably hit her target, the apparition point in the Forbidden Forest. She began to feel terribly ill and hoped she'd lose consciousness before the sensations from her body re-established communication with her brain. It wouldn't be too much longer now, she realized. She'd lose consciousness first, then it would be over. True, she'd be dead, but so would the demon spawn within her. Small price to pay, really, she thought philosophically as the darkness gathered around her field of vision.

  
  


"Phoebe, no! Wait!" Jeffrey had yelled but he was too late. She'd disappeared. Damn. He hadn't wanted her to do that. He'd needed her to bond herself to him while he apparated!

"Jeffrey!" Lupin gasped, "GO!"

"She apparated," the healer replied tightly, "Lord knows where or how well in her condition." 

"It doesn't matter where as long as she's gone. Now GO!" Lupin yelled impatiently. Jeffrey heeded the urgency in his voice, raised the wand he'd taken earlier and disapparated. Dumbledore closed his eyes in concentration for a brief moment, opened them and disapparated as well.

Lupin, however, was worried about Black... he'd gone past the point of his endurance and he wasn't in condition to apparate.

"Sirius," he said, "I'm going to try to get you to one of the outbuildings!"

"No!" Black croaked, "Get out of here Mooney, NOW!"

"Padfoot, I'm not going and just leaving you for the DeathEaters!" Lupin spat tensely. 

"You're not... Dammit just get out of here!" Black said as he rolled over and turned back into Snuffles. The other black dog bared it's teeth at Lupin stepping toward Snuffles protectively. With one last look at Snuffles Remus raised his wand and was gone.

"Lumos!" was the first thing Jeffrey said as he apparated. He moved with his lit wand pointing it through the trees, searching. Phoebe was in a heap on the ground a short distance away. He was already moving to her when Dumbledore appeared, promptly lit his wand and knelt next to Jeffrey and Phoebe. As he did, Lupin appeared.

The healer had both hands on the patient, scanning intently. The swirl of poison in her system made his own head spin as he read it. He focused and moved deeper, searching. He didn't like what he found. Phoebe was bleeding badly as her body struggled to rid itself of the fetus. He pushed some healing energy in to try and hold her dropping vital signs steady as he withdrew.

"Remus," He said, looking up, "There's no time to move her, but I need help."

"Whatever you need me to do." Lupin responded quickly.

"I need my father's help. Get to the clinic as quickly-"

Lupin interrupted, "I'm on my way."

As Lupin sprinted off Dumbledore turned to Jeffrey, " I can pulse some energy, would that help in the meantime?"

In answer, the healer moved Phoebe's head and shoulders into Dumbledore's lap. "Relax, and just concentrate of sending a constant low stream of energy... nothing fancy, alright?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said resting his hands on Phoebe's shoulders and closing his eyes in concentration. Jeffrey moved his wand over Phoebe's abdomen, whispered, something that sounded like"Forgive me," and began his task.

Lupin and James Barnes found Jeffrey and Albus concentrating intently when they arrived in the clearing a short time later. Lupin put a firm hand on James' arm and gripped him firmly for a moment to prevent him from giving in the paternal urge to rush to his son in relief. James was glad Lupin had, he could see Jeffrey was frowning intensely as his sweat dripped down from his brow to join the blood soaking Phoebe's robes. 

Soon Jeffrey felt a warm energy join him in the healing bond and he knew his father had come. The fetus, it turned out, had aborted itself, probably only a short time ago. But now Jeffrey was working to mend the bleeding tissues. The blood soaking Phoebe's robes stopped spreading as the men stanched the worst of the bleeding. Now that the bleeding was under control, James began to clear some of the toxins. All the while Dumbledore concentrated on sending a flow of energy into the unconscious woman. Just as he began to tire, he felt a set of hands on his own shoulders as new energy flowed into him from Lupin. He sent it on to Phoebe.

After a time, none of them knew how long, both healers finally sat back, lifting their hands from Phoebe. Jeffrey looked dazed but his focus sharpened as the looked over at his father.

"Dad," he said hoarsely.

The older healer half dragged his son over to him in a desperate, relieved embrace. Lupin and Dumbledore held their silence for a moment, just a moment. Emotions would have to take second place to safety; they were still not within the boundaries of Hogwarts.

"We need to move as soon as possible," Dumbledore said tensely, "this is an apparition point used by Death Eaters. It's the first place they'll look. We've got to get within the Hogwarts grounds."

He frowned then, and looked at Lupin, "Where's Sirius?"

"He couldn't apparate... all those transformations took too much out of him," Lupin said anxiously, "he transformed back into Snuffles and the other dogs warned me off. They were clearly going to protect him. I just hope..." Lupin trailed off, guilt twisting his face.

Jeffrey moved to the distraught wizard, "Remus, those are three of the damn smartest dogs I've ever seen, it was like something out of a book. I thought they were all animagi. Siri- Your friend will be just fine." Jeffrey stopped himself just in time. He almost used the name 'sirius'. Unless he missed his guess the animagus had been the fugitive Black... but the man had saved him and was clearly trusted by both Lupin and Dumbledore. His healer's intuition told him it would be better to pretend he hadn't noticed just who the animagus was.

His father and Dumbledore had conjured a stretcher and levitated Phoebe onto it. They were moving as swiftly as they could along the path to the school. Jeffrey put a firm hand on Lupin's back, giving him a push in that direction as he followed. Lupin complied, but he kept looking back over his shoulder.

Jeffrey, meanwhile kept looking ahead at his patient. He desperately wanted to be able to tell that woman "I told you so" when she awakened, but first she had to wake up. He noticed Lupin look back again and thought of Severus. The Death Eaters still thought him loyal... and he'd been away when they'd escaped... he had to be alright. Had to be.


	28. Good, Bad, and Ugly

ICLYLM chapter 28 "Good, Bad, and Ugly"

  
  


A/N: I have had some major big, ultra-important deadlines and just returned from out of state. I will continue to work on the story and post as I am able but recent and continuing events in my family may make it difficult. I ask your patience if posting gets a bit spotty. Thanks.

I will replace the last chapter with the re-formatted version.

Ayod, did I forget to thank you last time? Sorry.

I haven't even read this over... sorry if I should have...

  
  


Ripper put his head down on his paws and sighed. If he could have his choice they'd be in the woods tonight. He, Blackie and Brownie usually spent the night in the woods when the humans in the house were screaming so frightfully. Every instinct in them told them something horrible was happening. The instincts passed down through countless thousands upon thousands of years said "Run!" Blackie and Brownie, however, had said "stay." They needed to stay with the strange dog/man until he woke back up. So, stay they did, trying not to listen to the terrble shrieking coming from the mansion.

Eventually the humans stopped the hoarse yelling and an unnatural silence descended upon the gray light of early morning. Blackie crept out of the shed to see what he could see before the sky became too light. He used his nose to figure out where Snuffles had been the previous day and eventually found himself outside the French Doors. In the dim light of a dying fire he could see there was a thin man seated in a chair turned mostly away from him. On the floor around him lay several other men. They seemed to have been dropped in untidy heaps and none of them moved much... save for some occasional twitching. The one whose face he could see had a line of blood running from nose and mouth. 

Blackie crept back to the shed wondering what, exactly, made humans behave the way they did. It made no sense at all to him and he guessed it never would. Meanwhile, the sooner they woke the man/dog and got him away the better. He and Brownie agreed that the convenient shelter of the sheds and outbuildings was no longer worth the price of being near the evil place.

Brownie had more faith in humans than he. She had a kind and gentle human. She would still be with her human had the old woman not died. Blackie, on the other hand, had known nothing but cruelty at the hands of humans until he escaped. Ripper had been dumped out of a speeding car on the edge of the woods. Blackie secretly thought he knew why Ripper's owners had done that, but he kept his own counsel on the matter.

Still, Ripper had his uses, Blackie mused as the small dog energetically began to sniff, lick, and poke the dog/man, encouraging him to wake up. When the man/dog finally showed signs of rousing Brownie rambled over and began to nudge his head with her own. Finally, the part-dog sat up, blinking. None of the dogs make a noise for a few moments until, finally, Snuffles spoke,

"My pack... the ones who came to help and the ones from the bad place... did they get away?"

"The two men from the woods and the man and woman from the big shed all disappeared before we helped you come here last night," Brownie answered calmly.

"What happened, after?"

"You slept all night and well into today. We've been waiting for you to wake so we could all leave this evil place. We will not be coming back." Blackie said firmly.

"What about the men in the evil place?" Snuffles asked.

"One sits in a chair, the rest lie on the floor not awake, twitching." Blackie reported unemotionally, "By now, they might wake, too."

"I must go and see."

"Are you nuts?" Ripper piped up. For once, Blackie agreed with the little dog.

"Why?"

"One of the men is not evil he is... pretending to be in their pack to get my pack-mates out. He was not there last night. I must know if he is there now."

Blackie sighed and Brownie gave him a meaningful look.

"Fine," Blackie said, "We will wait here."

"No, no, thanks so much but no," Snuffles ruffed, "You go on ahead and get out of here. You are right to never come back."

"We will wait."

"You've done too much already!"

"She," Blackie said, nodding toward Brownie, "Always tells me humans are more good than bad. You make me think she could be right. I also think the humans who are bad are very, very bad and I don't like them. I will stay to help you get the good human away from the bad ones."

Snuffles was taken aback and moved by this. There was nothing he could say, however. He simply nuzzled Blackie and trotted to the door. "I'll be back soon," he said.

  
  


Snuffles wasn't intending to rescue Snape, per se. He wanted to know if he was still there and where so he could report back to Dumbledore and come up with a plan to get him out. The dog snorted when he realized that he, Sirius Black, was intending to rescue Severus Snape of all wizards. He slowed as he got closer to the house, listening.

There were sounds of stirring coming from it: shuffles, thuds, even groans, but no one seemed to be talking. That couldn't be good. Then again, Voldemort had doubtless been quite angry the night before and he wasn't above taking out his anger on the death eaters. Truth be told he expected, from Blackies mention of twitching, that they had been exposed to the unforgivable Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort's minions weren't likely feeling too good this morning, that was for sure. 

He crouched low and began to make his way across the lawn toward the french doors. About half-way he heard the sound of the latch on the side door. He froze for a second, then lay as flat as he could in the overgrown grass. Swiveling his eyes he saw Malfoy stumble out onto the porch followed by a barely upright Crabbe and Goyle. They must be leaving, foul gits. Snuffles was glad they weren't in any shape to be keen-eyed or observant.

Of course, one doesn't have to be to spot a black dog as large as a bear crouching in the overgrown half-dead grass. Malfoy certainly didn't. He saw the cowering dog and a sneer lifted the corner of his mouth. A stray dog wasn't much compared with last night, but it would do. Malfoy reached into his robes and withdrew his wand. 

With an evil look of satisfaction he waved it at Snuffles and uttered a curse that caused the animagus to howl piteously and sent him flying more than half-way back toward the shed from which he had come. Malfoy lifted an eyebrow as he regarded the now still form of the black dog many yards away. Another curse, perhaps? No. He had best save the rest of his energy lest he be unable to apparate. He certainly didn't want to hang around here with Voldemort in his present mood. With an angry swing of his wand he was gone... Crabbe and Goyle following soon after.

A few moments after that the three stray dogs moved carefully from the shed to the fallen Snuffles. The large dog was not moving, but he was breathing. 

"Ripper, watch the house for men," Blackie commanded as he grabbed the man/dog's collar firmly in his teeth. Brownie did likewise. A short time later they had dragged the man/dog to the shed and been joined by Ripper. The rest of the afternoon Blackie and Brownie experimented with Ripper and some of the mouldy burlap sacks. They finally decided that they could drag the man/dog to the woods if they put him on one of the sacks and pulled it along. They would do so after dark. The the man/dog woke up they would tell him to get someone else in his pack to come back for the good human.


	29. The Morning After

ICLYLM Chapter 29 "The Morning After"  


A/N: short but not sweet.  
  


Severus Snape was slow in regaining consciousness, but not as slow as some. The Dark Lord had been beyond livid when he'd returned to find Jeffrey Barnes and Phoebe Taylor gone the evening before. He'd sent a Death Eater to the apparition point in the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts, but the man had returned empty handed.

While he waited he had applied the cruciatus curse liberally to the two Death Eaters who had been left with the prisoners. The older one hadn't lasted long. He'd gone purple in the face and ceased breathing after about fifteen minutes. Severus was pretty sure it had been a heart attack. He went over the external symptoms confirming this in his mind over and over in a scientific fashion trying not to react with the horror he felt. The thick-headed guard who had also acted as a sort of courier lasted much longer. His screams would probably haunt Severus' nightmares for a long time to come.

When McNair returned with the news that the prisoners had truly escaped onto the Hogwarts grounds Voldemort applied the Imperious Curse to the guard. With a look of horror he pointed his wand at himself and whispered "Avada Kedavara" Severus felt his insides freeze. The emotional doors slammed shut. They were either unable to take any more or they were responding to the survival instinct which demanded wit not feeling. In any case Severus was now acutely aware of the reaction of the Death Eaters around him. Malfoy, in particular, was shifting uncomfortably. If Crabbe and Goyle had two brain cells between them, they'd be fidgiting, too. Then it struck Severus. This was his opportunity, and a golden one at that.

"Well, Malfoy," he hissed contemptuously, "How very convenient that you should show up and invite us to your manor on a whim only to have us return to find the woman and the doctor gone!"

Malfoy's eyes flashed with anger, but he also went a shade paler. "I had nothing to do with it, Snape" he said dangerously.

"Oh, really?" Snape sneered back, conscious of the rapt attention of all in the room, especially Lord Voldemort, "It's mere co-incidence, then? You just happen to lure us all out of here and when we return the Heir that would threaten to displace you in the order to come is gone. Oh, yes, Lucius, quite a co-incidence, indeed. Good thing we have your word that it only is a coincidence." Severus spat the rest angrily.

"How do we know you had nothing to do with it? After all, the woman was with you at that wretched school!" Malfoy countered (a bit desperately, Severus thought... and he wasn't alone)

"Yes, she was. She was there to keep an eye on me as I recall. She was rather an annoyance. I never trusted the woman and with her pregnancy I would have had the best of both worlds... an heir to the Dark Lord and her dead and out of my hair! But you had to go and put your fingers into the pie, didn't you Malfoy? The child is likely dead by now and, knowing Dumbledore, that muggle-loving idiot, she is not. She's gone back to blow my cover, Malfoy, Thanks to you! But, no, you think I arranged for that, YOU SNIVELING IDIOT!" Severus allowed himself to come to a furious pitch and he was a sight to behold.

Severus, however, was nothing next to the glaring red eyes and palpable dark power of the angered Voldemort. As Malfoy opened his mouth to retort he was hit with a binding charm. Voldemort oozed over to the frozen Death Eater and fairly hissed in his ear, "If this is not a co-incidence, Malfoy, I shall be sure that you live a long life so that you may spend it regretting you were ever born." With that he flicked his wand and Malfoy went crashing into the wall opposite with a sickening crunch. His bound body rolled onto the floor like a log. The other Death Eaters stared at his prone form on the carpet, holding their collective breaths. Moment's later they had joined him on the floor as Voldemort took his frustration out of them all, including Severus, making them write in agony and scream for mercy as he applied the Cruciatus Curse to them each in turn in what promised to be a continuing cycle.  
  


Snape was among the last to pass out. Malfoy, unable to even write or scream had been the first. Severus pulled his mind away from the night before and listened carefully to the sounds around him, trying to ascertain what was going on before he opened his eyes. All he heard was the occasional low moan. He opened his eyes. Voldemort was seated in his wing-backed chair regarding the prone death eaters before him. He seemed oddly pleased to see Severus awaken.

"Ah, last to scream, last to faint, first to wake," The Dark Lord said in a odd voice as he licked his lips. Severus didn't like this, but he was distracted from thinking about it by what came next.

"Get up Snape, I have a job for you." Voldemort intoned. Severus rose unsteadily too his feet trying hard not to think what that job might be.

"I want you to sneak back into that school of yours and be sure the Taylor woman is no longer pregnant. If, by chance, she is you will find a way to bring her to me. If she is not and she lives, kill her. In either case I shall expect you to return with her by midnight. Be gone."

Severus turned as steadily as he could manage and made his way out of the room. Once out of Voldemort's sight he leaned heavily against a wall trying to collect his thoughts, and stave off his feelings. 

After a moment Malfoy and his cronies shoved unsteadily past him and slammed out of the house. Severus saw a flash of light and heard a sharp yelp followed by a thud. Through the a window down the corridor he could just see the form of a large black dog go flying. Malfoy gave Bastard a bad name, that was to be sure and he was nothing compared with Voldemort.

Snape could barely move, let along think and now he was supposed to bring Phoebe back or kill her. Voldemort was a clever, to be sure. What better way to get what he wanted AND test Snape's loyalties. Would the Dark Lord believe he had killed Phoebe if he didn't produce a body? He doubted it. Thing was, he wasn't going to kill her. What the hell was he supposed to do now? 


	30. Good News, Bad News

ICLYLM Chapter 30 "Good News and Bad News"  
  


A/N: who was it that was saying the chapters were getting a bit short? 

Jeffrey and James Barnes are the creation of Raven Dancer who knows the importance of community health care in the magical world and is letting them come out to play in my story.  
  


Lupin walked over the dark, frost covered grounds, arms crossed and wand grasped in one fist as he went. He had been unable to sit still last night and the healers and Dumbledore had been only too glad send him out to roam the grounds. Now night was giving way to day and still there was nothing. No sign of Sirius.

Of course, the logical part of his brain told him that Sirius wouldn't have been likely to turn up until morning, anyway. The logical part of his brain told him his friend would be safe as a dog... that the other dogs were clearly going to protect him. Lupin smiled ruefully at this thought. It was a sad thing that animals could often be counted upon to be more loyal and brave than humans. Well, many humans not all. He looked back at the dark castle in the distance with it's few corridor lights winking out of windows here and there.

He had seen extraordinary courage on the part of humans. Two rather brave ones were still right under The Dark Lord's nose as he spoke. Unless he was very much mistaken, another was under the care of the healers and the bravest man he had ever known. Damn, this was a hell of a mess. 

Later, long after the castle had begun to stir and wake, Hagrid came walking over the grounds with a basket dangling from one of his massive fingers and a blanket over his shoulder. Of course, on Hagrid's shoulder the woolen blanket looked more like a mere tartan scarf, but it was large enough, and warm, when the giant draped it over the DADA professor's shoulders. Without a word Hagrid guided Remus a few feet into the forest to a fallen log and sat down with him.

"Well, 'S no good I suppose, to try ta tell yeh tae come in. Not that I blame ye, mind," the Giant sighed placing the basket between them. "Ah least eat summat, eh, Remus?"

Lupin sighed, "How long have you known, Hagrid?"

"I don't reckon I could say... a while. Since Sirius, ah, Snuffles came. Headmaster asked me tae keep a watch o' the woods. Looks like yeh got tha' covered today, though" Hagrid finished with a small grin.

"Sirius and Severus are both still there, Hagrid. I've no idea what's going on with Severus and I know Sirius is exhausted and weak. Last I saw him he was Snuffles and with some other dogs. I'd hoped to see him by now."

"The other dogs were friendly-like?"

"Yes, they were... remarkable quite frankly. They seemed to know Sirius and be helping him."

"Well then," Hagrid said, patting a massive hand on Lupin's back, "Ye ought not worry for him. Some animals are more trustworthy than humans. If they're his friends they'll watch out for him."

Lupin smiled weakly. He had just been thinking something similar. But it was one thing to believe your friend was alright and quite another to actually know it. With a sigh he looked into the basket and was pleased to note that the food therein was apparently from the castle kitchens and not Hagrid's own. As Hagrid reached in for what turned out to be a canteen of pumpkin juice Remus picked up a sandwich. He didn't feel much like eating but the logical part of his brain said he should. He could heed logic at least once today.

He and Hagrid sat there for quite a long time as the morning began to wear away. The Big man seemed content to lend his company. Remus was tired and, though he could not sleep, his body was happy to sit quite still, resting. Hagrid was just rummaging around in the basket when Lupin's keen ears picked a particular sound out of the many noises of the forest. The sound was distand and out of place. There. It was the sound of someone crashing clumsily through the trees!

Remus was on his feet, listening intently. Hagrid had arisen as well, his face perplexed. Then the giant heard it, too.

"What would make that noise in the forest?" Remus asked.

"Nothing tha' belongs there, 'specially not durin' daylight." Hagrid said reaching behind him to take his crossbow off it's strap. "Right then, lets have a look, shall we?"

"Indeed," Remus said grimly pulling his wand from his sleeve with a look of determination. He hoped it was Sirius but both he and Hagrid knew it could be anything.  
  
It wasn't Sirius. 

Something on two legs was moving clumsily through the brush and the trees with a jerking, yet steady determination. It was Severus. His pale face was down and he seemed to be having some trouble with his coordination and motor control; but his expression was determined as the man dragged himself along, gripping his wand and biting his lip.

"Severus!/Perfessor" Lupin and Hagrid cried out in unison.

Snape's head jerked up in surprise and he overbalanced, crashing into the underbrush.

Hagrid was there in two strides, Lupin not far behind.

The giant was already lifting the weak professor, murmuring, "We'll get ye to the castle straightaway and fix ye right up, you'll see."

"NO!" Severus' expression was frightened and a bit wild.

"Severus," Lupin said, concerned, "You're hurt we've got to get you some medical attention. Besides, the grounds are likely the safest place to be."

"I know," Severus ground out, "But I cannot be seen. Voldemort sent me on a mission. If I allow myself to be seen and word gets back to him... more lives than my own are at stake, Remus!"

Lupin thought for a moment, then rose from his crouching position beside the two men.

"Hagrid, bring Severus as close to the edge of the forest within the school grounds as you can without being seen. I know what we need and I'll be back shortly." With that he sprinted off. 

Hagrid was just about as far as he dared go when he heard the very soft howl of a wolf. He smiled. Most wolves didn't howl during the day without very good reason. He moved toward the sound and, as he expected, spied Lupin looking around intently.

"Perfessor Lupin!" Hagrid hissed.

Remus turned and moved purposefully toward the giant with the potions master cradled (grudgingly) in his arms. As soon as he was near, Lupin unfurled a silvery sort of cloak. Snape sighed but said nothing.

"Harry's invisibility cloak!" Hagrid cried happily.

"Yes, we'll need to wrap Professor Snape in it. Then I think if you ... Severus I'm so sorry about this... if you hoist him over your shoulder we can both walk fairly naturally to the castle with no one the wiser."

Severus gritted his teeth but said nothing. He was running out of time and this would be faster and easier.

Lupin led Hagrid into the castle and up to the third floor. They were through the door to the corridor with a simple spell and a password. Lupin then strode across a dusty chamber to a statue of a unicorn. "Three-Headed-Dog" Lupin said firmly, and the unicorn rolled smoothly aside. Hagrid grinned "Like tha' one," he murmured as he shifted his invisible bundle to his arms and ducked through the door.

They were in a rarely used room that looked to be part of a disused suite. There was a bed and several chairs and tables. James Barnes was sitting on the bed feeding energy to Phoebe Taylor while Jeffrey Barnes and Dumbledore stood next to the single window conferring in tense tones. All three men looked up expectantly as Lupin and Hagrid entered the room.

Hagrid immediately pulled the invisibility cloak off of Professor Snape, prepared to behold an awful glare. Snape, however, was in no shape to glare. It seemed he had passed out somewhere along the journey.

Jeffrey Barnes sprang forward and Hagrid quickly knelt to allow him to examine the man. Lupin moved to Dumbledore.

"We found him moving through the forest alone... he was having a rough go of it, too," Lupin noted.

"Cruciatus Curse," Jeffrey said aloud as he scanned his patient, "multiple applications, dammit."

"He told me that he couldn't be seen because Voldemort had sent him here on a mission. He said more than one life depended on it. There's still no sign of Sirius so I don't know if he meant him or Phoebe or both." Lupin finished.

Dumbledore frowned in concentration. He then looked at Severus and Jeffrey and waved his wand to conjure another hospital bed for the clandestine ward.

"Hagrid, Jeffrey," He said, indicating the bed. 

Just then however, Snape began to stir and his eyes flew open.

"How long?!" He asked desperately, clutching Jeffrey's robes.

"Severus?"

"How long have I been out? How long?" he asked again, alarm clearly in his voice.

"Shhh, Severus," Jeffrey said, putting a hand on his patient's shoulder, "Hagrid only just brought you in. You passed out on the way up here."

Snape let out his breath but relaxed only very slightly. "Thank Ptolomey," he whispered, "There's not much time, I need to speak to the Headmaster at once," Snape said more firmly.

"Severus, friend, I'm right here," Dumbledore said kneeling down. Snape held a shaking hand toward his mentor ...whether to gain the Headmaster's attention or assure himself the man was real, no one could tell.

"Albus, Phoebe?" Snape asked.

He wanted comfort, then, the Headmaster realized capturing his friend's shaking hand. He feared Phoebe was dead and, come to that, he was only half wrong.

"She's alive Severus, she's right here" Dumbledore soothed, moving aside a bit and gesturing in the direction of Phoebe and James. Snape moved his head, his eyes searching hopefully. They found what they sought and closed as a small shudder passed through Snape's body. He mouthed something no one could hear and took a very deep breath. No one spoke. Hagrid got a bit snuffly, but still held the Potions Master gently and firmly.

"Albus," Severus continued, reaching to clutch the older wizard's robes with his other hand as well, "Voldemort sent me after her. I don't know what to do. He's sent me to bring a pregant woman or a, a, dead one. By midnight." Snape was gripping the robes so tightly his knuckles had gone white. Dumbledore covered those hands with his own trying to send some warmth and re-assurance into his friend. 

"Then the solution is simple, Severus. You shall not bring him either. You shall not return."

Snape looked confused, "But I have to, the cause... if I don't-"

"Severus, you have already given more than several persons' fair share to our cause. You deserve to stop now. What's more, you need to. The situation is now untenable. You cannot return safely because you cannot return without betraying your true loyalties. Severus I will not allow you to return. That is my final word." Dumbledore's voice was firm.

Severus looked up into those eyes and saw something that looked very much like relief. Relief. He closed his own eyes and took a shuddering breath. No more. No more. He was done. Relief washed through him and he felt a tear slip from his eye as darkness began to swirl in the corners of his sight. 

A moment after, Snape went limp. 

"Alright, that's it," Jeffrey snapped, "The man is hurt, I need to work on him. Hagrid, move him to the bed."

"Right ye are, Jeffy," Hagrid said, a bit hoarsely as he rose and crossed the room in two giant strides. He laid Severus down very gently and turned to the headmaster as the young healer launched himself at his patient.

"Anything else I can do for ye, Headmaster?" Hagrid said.

"Hagrid, please keep an eye out, we're still one person short." The Headmaster said gravely. Then, turning to Lupin he said, "Come, Remus, let's leave the healers to their art."  
  
  
  
Severus woke to the horribly familar pain and twitching that followed the Cruciatus curse. Where was he? He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room with stone walls. Ah, of course, Hogwarts. An unfamiliar room. He turned his head and caught sight of James Barnes sitting next to a bed which, to his relief, still contained Phoebe. Barnes' eye had caught the movement and he spoke warmly to Snape.

"She's very ill, Severus. She's on the mend, though. How are you?"

"I'm not sure," Snape said, "I feel a bit groggy and I'm not sure I remember correctly."

"Well I do," said another voice, and Snape turned to see Jeffrey Barnes moving toward him with a potion bottle and a cup. "The Headmaster said your career as a spy is over. You're not going back to that foul creature." Jeffrey set the cup and bottle down sharply on the bedside cabinet and sat in the chair, reaching for Snape's hand. "This, my friend, will be the last time I have to treat the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse on you. In fact," He continued, eyes glinting, "As soon as the Headmaster has had the chance to speak with you I intend to administer my best sleeping draught."

"That conversation won't take long," Snape murmured looking around Jeffrey to catch sight of Phoebe's quiet form. Jeffrey surpressed a chuckle and moved his chair a bit out of the way.

"Everything had to do with Phoebe, there's nothing new to tell him."

"Well, I mostly think he's interested in hearing what you can tell him about Sirius." Jeffrey said.

Severus looked confused, "Sirius? Black? What about him?"

"You didn't see him there, as the dog? You didn't see him at all?" Jeffrey asked sharply.

"He was there?" Snape said incredulously, moving a hand over his forehead as if he were trying to clear his thoughts. "When? Why?"

Jeffrey shifted nervously, he couldn't say why, but he didn't like this at all. "He was spying on the Riddle House to see if the three of us were there. He helped Phoebe and I escape. You never saw him? Never saw a large black dog?"

Snape frowned as he struggled to recall. A large black dog, hadn't he seen one? When?

"OH Merlin!" he said suddenly, struggling to sit up, "Merlin's name, I need to speak to the headmaster!"

Jeffrey struggled to try and make the Potions Master lie back down, "Severus, he's coming to speak with you any minute. Lie down, for Cerridwyn's sake!" The older healer was on his feet. He crossed to put a calming hand on Snape's shoulder. Both healers were relieved to hear the stony rumble of the statue moving.

"There, Severus, the Headmaster is here, sit back at least. Listen to Jeffrey." 

Snape, seeing he would get farther if he stopped trying to quit the bed sat back tensely as Dumbledore entered and moved toward his bed, eyes twinkling.

"Headmaster," He said, before the older man could speak, "Headmaster, Jeffrey tells me Sirius was there, at the Riddle place. He says he was Snuffles... is this true?"

Dumbledore's expression had turned wary and grave, "Yes, it is. He was instrumental in helping get Phoebe and Jeffrey out. But he did not return with us. He stayed in his animagus form in the care of some other animals. He was too exhausted to apparate when the warning sounded that the Death Eaters were returning."

"Has he come back?" Snape asked in a small, hopeless voice.

"No, not as of yet." Dumbledore replied.

Snape dropped his head into his hands with a groan. "Damn it all, damn everything!" he whispered fiercely. Jeffrey looked alarmed and made to put his hand on his patient's shoulder. Instead, the older header gently guided his son up out of the chair so Dumbledore could sit next to his troubled friend.

A warm hand was laid on Snape's shoulder another took hold of the hands in which Snape had buried his face and pulled gently.

"Severus, what is it?"

Snape let his hands be pulled down into his lap. He looked up as Dumbledore with despairing black eyes. 

"I have to go back. Black is hurt. I saw Malfoy blast the dog this morning. I have to go."

"No, Severus!" Jeffrey spoke up, "We will send someone else, you cannot go. You're hurt for one thing!"

Snape turned his eyes on Barnes, "It has to be me. We all know I'm the only one who could get in there now. I will just have to return empty-handed and hope for the best. If I apparate a distance away I may be able to locate Sirius before presenting myself to Voldemort." Snape said heavily. He looked at the golden light of sunset coming through the window. "I have to go now, Midnight is coming."


	31. Damn

ICLYLM Chapter 31: "Damn"  
  
A/N: Jeffrey and James Barnes are the creations of Raven Dancer and appear here with her kind permission. The scene between the two is for you, Raven.

  
  


Phoebe woke very slowly. She dreamt she'd heard Severus' voice but when she opened her eyes and looked around the strange room she saw the bed opposite was empty.

"Where is he?"

The familiar face of Jeffrey Barnes moved into her line of vision.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Phoebe," he said a hint of a smile in his voice. His manner, however, seemed slightly forced.

"Where is he?" Phoebe repeated, trying to remain calm.

"Who, Phoebe?" Jeffrey asked and quailed a bit at the awful look he got from his patient.

"Severus, Jeffrey! Tell me he got out of that evil place!"

Jeffrey sat down while trying to decide what to say. 

"Phoebs" he said carefully, "He got out but he had to return. He's there now."

It was like being hit in the stomach. He was here. He'd gone back.

"He WAS here?" she said softly. Jeffrey nodded. "Then I did hear him."

The healer smiled but his face was still sad, "I expect you did, Phoebe," he allowed, "He made us all leave him alone with you for a few minutes before he left."

Phoebe felt her throat tighten as she struggled to digest this information.

"Why did he go back?"

"Siri- uh, Snuffles, a dog, an animagus, helped us - you and I - to escape. But the animagus didn't make it out. Severus insisted on going back for him."

Phoebe said nothing for several long minutes. Finally, her voice flat, she began to ask more questions.

"We're at Hogwarts?

"Yes."

"Where?"

"We're in an unused part of the third floor the Headmaster reserves for 'special projects' others don't need to know about."

"Because?"

Jeffrey took a breath before answering, "Because we've told everyone you're dead. Voldemort will have you killed otherwise and so we've put out the word that he's missed his chance."

"The... pregnancy, then?"

"Aborted itself, Phoebe, and almost took you with it."

Again silence stretched itself out across the room. Again, Phoebe broke it,

"How long has he been gone?"

"Not too long."

"And 'not too long' is how long, exactly?"

"About nine or ten hours."

"I see."

Nine or ten hours. The longer he was gone the greater the chance he would never return. Nor, for that matter, did the animagus appear to have a good chance at this point. Phoebe turned her head to study the stone wall beside her bed. She wanted to escape Jeffrey's gaze, it only made the horrible feeling of despair swelling within her that much worse. 

She supposed this feeling must be akin to what the wretched prisoners of Azkaban felt. All she could think of was the fact that Severus was dead or suffering and wishing for death... and it was her fault. This whole grand mess was her fault, her stupid, stupid fault. And what, exactly had they gained? Nothing. And they'd lost far more. They'd lost the most valuable spy they'd ever had and she'd lost the man... the man who gave her something no one else had. "And the animagus," a part of her brain reminded her, "don't forget the man who rescued you. You probably got him killed, too." She tried desperately to think of something else but the only other thing she could call to mind was the night, that night, when she'd set this whole mess in motion. 

Jeffrey watched his patient turn away from him to face the wall, her shoulders hunched miserably. It was hard to blame her. Still, as she slowly curled into a ball he found himself reaching out to touch her and scan her. Feeling her turmoil was like having the wind knocked out of him. Were she perfectly healthy he would be expecting turmoil; but in her weakened state there seemed to be an avalanche of misery. Guilt was knotted throughout her feelings with a tenacity that was rare and a little daunting. Jeffrey poured some comforting energy in through his connection and Phoebe stiffened, resisting. But Jeffrey increased the energy feed and overcame her resistance. He continued to "nose around" and he did not like what he saw. 

He wove a sleeping spell on the witch and pulled himself back out. He rose and walked to the window uttering an oath that would have gotten his hide tanned raw had he said it as a child. He father had not been prone to physical discipline, but Jeffrey was sure that this particular phrase could have helped his father overcome his aversion to violence... for just a moment, in any case. Jeffrey allowed himself a small smile and shook his head. Probably not. As a healer one could see, sense, and feel a great deal when one scanned a patient. Often one was told even more. It was hard to even consider raising even a light hand to a child after hearing and seeing some of the things done to people in their youth. No, even that profane phrase wouldn't have inspired corporal punishment. Although, Jeffrey admitted, he would probably still be mucking out cow stalls without magic to this day.

Again, Jeffrey shook his head. He was allowing his mind to wander because he was tired, but also because he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. He and his Father had "fought the good fight" with Phoebe medically and they were clearly on the way to winning that race. But unless he was very much mistaken, they were likely to lose this particular patient, anyway. There wasn't much force left behind her will to live and more strength seemed to be gathering behind her will to die. They were in a very precarious balance at the moment. One man's fate would likely be the factor to tip the scales in either direction. He didn't like being so helpless.

"Jeffrey?" a voice asked softly behind him. He turned to see his father with a concerned look on his face.

"Son?"

He didn't know where to start. He was worried about his patient... hadn't left her, in fact. Now, after all they'd been through... He looked up into his father's eyes as the older man put a hand on his shoulder. He opened his mouth and a small tremor went through him.

"Oh, Dad, I just don't know where to start."

The elder healer gently walked his son over to the empty bed. He sat him down and settled himself beside him, an arm around his shoulder.

"How about at the beginning? You must have been pretty frightened, Son."

Jeffrey hadn't expected this. He thought he'd just find a way to explain his current patient problem. But his father was... was pulling him against him and stroking his head as he had when Jeffrey was a child. Jeffrey found himself trembling again and then something inside him shifted out of the way and he found himself burying his head into his father's robes and letting the stress and fear and uncertainty come out in the form of tears as his father slowly rocked him.

After a time Jeffrey's father spoke, voice hoarse, "I was scared, too, Son. It's a parent's worst nightmare, they say, and they're right."

"It was awful," Jeffrey admitted running a hand across his cheeks to dry them. "After everything we've seen and heard to be that creature's prisoner..."

"Did you see him?"

"No. Severus and a guard were the only other persons, beside Phoebe, I saw until the other night when we escaped. I knew intellectually how the isolation was supposed to affect me, but knowing didn't help. It felt pretty hopeless down there. But that wasn't the worst." Jeffrey said bitterly.

"What was?"

"What they were making me do, keeping her alive to be some sort of incubator... letting her be poisoned and killed. Dad, you can't imagine..." Jeffrey trailed off again.

"No, I don't suppose I really can. It goes against who we are as healers, everything we believe." his father said gravely.

Jeffrey sat up a little feeling somewhat drained, yet a bit lighter. "Dad, I think I'm still going to lose her."

The older healer nodded, "That whole emotional mess in there?"

"Yes. I can't see where to begin or even how to make a difference." 

James Barnes was silent for a moment or two. Finally he spoke, "Jeff, can you think of anyone else whose emotional scan seemed at least as daunting?"

"Of course," Jeffrey said softly, "Severus." 

"He's come such a long way, Son, in no small part due to you. Phoebe won't be easy, but you and I can do it, I think."

"Even if Severus doesn't come back?" Jeffrey said biting the inside of his lip to keep his voice as steady as possible.

"Merlin and all the People's gods forbid, Jeffrey. We can't count Severus out just yet. Besides, didn't you say just last year that the man was too stubborn to die?"

Jeffrey allowed himself a wistful smile at this thought. "I hope I'm right, Dad," he said.

"Well," the older healer said giving his son a small hug, "Aren't you always?"  
  


(The evening before:)

The Riddle house had been quiet when Severus looked down toward it from the edge of the woods at Sunset. What was it they said in those cheap muggle movies? "Too quiet." Still, with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle gone, and the two guards dead that really would only leave Voldemort and Wormtail... and the snake Nagini. 

Severus leaned heavily against a tree and concentrated on taking a few deep breaths to help steady the shaking that remained with him... from the cruciatus or his nervousness he could not tell. It was very quiet and if he were quiet he might be able to find the animagus and get out before having to present himself to the Dark Lord. He tamped down the cynical voice that wanted to tell him that wasn't likely. 

He and Dumbledore had worked out his story, in any case. The woman had died shortly after escape, much to Dumbledore's apparent chagrin. The Headmaster had her body cremated and the ashes were in his office awaiting a scattering ceremony the next day. The Dark Lord would be ill-inclined to believe him, but it was likely enough that, with suspicion firmly cast on Malfoy, it might work. Again the cynical voice began to add a dissenting view and Severus silenced it. This was the best they could do, after all. He'd have to work with whatever came.

Now, the first thing he needed to do was see if the Black dog was still lying where it had been flung by Malfoy's spell. If it was, it was likely dead by now: a thought Severus did not care to entertain too long. That was the place to start. He looked at the scrub, bushes, boulders and outbuildings that stood between him and the spot on the lawn. There wasn't enough cover, but enough that with silence and darkness it might work. It would be full dark soon. Until then he just needed to wait and breathe. He longed to sit, but feared if he did so he might fall asleep.

When dark had finally gathered all around him he moved slowly and quitetly out from the shelter of the trees, grateful for his dark robes and his talent for silence. He stopped periodically behind the cover of a bush or small tree to survey his surroundings and take stock. This was taking forever and yet bringing him close to the house too quickly both at the same time. There was an over-large rock between him and the first of the outbuildings. Then a few bushes between the small barn and the spot to which the dog had flown... far, far, too close to that awful pile of bricks for comfort. Severus swallowed and pushed those thoughts away. He must concentrate on the task at hand.  
  


The three dogs in the barn stilled, dropped the edges of the sack with Snuffles on it, and put their heads up listening intently. What was it? A sound? A smell? Something had alerted them to the presence of a human outside the small barn. Blackie moved very quietly toward the direction they sensed the person to be. Yes, there was a man, he could see him through the spaces between the shrunken boards. He was moving very carefully and quietly past the barn. He didn't seem concerned that anything might be in it; so Blackie waited and watched. The man moved to the corner and looked carefully at the evil place before moving just as carefully and quietly toward the holly bush several yards away. The man continued to look nervously toward the evil place as he went.

Blackie decided that if he were that nervous about the evil place he probably wasn't one of the evil men. Still, it didn't pay to be foolish. They would have to wait until the man was gone before they drug the man/dog to the shelter of the woods. He went quietly back to the expectant Brownie and Ripper and softly explained this. The two dogs settled on either side of Snuffles who was still "out." Blackie went to settle down near a good spot to watch the man outside.

To Blackie's surprise the man went to the spot the evil man had flung Snuffles with his stick earlier in the day. The man was on his knees examining the spot carefully. He then moved slowly back to the shelter of the second holly bush. Blackie tried very hard to sort this out. Was this man looking for the Snuffles? If so, why? Did he want to help him or hurt him? He had no way to decide. Better to be safe and hope he went away soon. He and his friends would help the man/dog until he felt well enough to help himself. 

Blackie watched the man make his way carefully back toward their shelter. When the man got there he looked around nervously and then checked something strapped to his wrist. Then, to Blackie's dismay he began to look at their building very carefully.

"Hide!" hissed Blackie, "Quietly!" he added as he softly leapt over and took an edge of the sack upon which Snuffles lay. Brownie and Ripper also grasped the sack and helped Blackie pull it toward the mouldy pile in the corner. They could hear the man running his hand softly along the outside walls. He would round the corner and find the door at any moment...  
  


Severus leaned against the small barn. Sirius wasn't were he had been thrown. That was probably good. So long as no one thought him to be anything but a dog he may have managed to crawl to one of the outbuildings. He might also have captured the attention of a very upset Wormtail... but that possibility didn't bear too much contemplation at the moment. He needed to search the outbuildings... starting with this one, the closest. He looked at his watch. He needed to get on with it, too. No telling how long it would take.

As he ran his hand lightly along the worn boards of the building searching for the edge of a door or a hinge he heard a sort of rustling hiss from inside. He paused, listening intently. No, it wasn't the sound of the snake Nagini (thank Merlin). It wasn't precisely a hiss, either. Marshaling some extra caution he found the door, held his wand at the ready, and noiselessly stepped inside.

Silence. As he waited for his eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness inside the building he now heard nothing, and that made him nervous. There was nothing for it, he needed to see what was going on.

"Lumos minor" he whispered and a faint beam of bluish light glowed from the edge of his wand. "Quickly now" he thought to himself. It wouldn't do for someone to see light flickering between the substantial cracks in the walls of this shed.

There wasn't much to see. A tiny loft was empty save for some trash and a bit of scattered straw. Rusty wheelbarrows and shovels hid no secrets, either. That left only the pile of burlap sacks in the corner. Snape wrinkled his nose at the musty smell as he drew near. He also noticed that one of the bags near the floor toward the back had twitched. 

He backed away carefully and found a long-handled garden rake. Standing as far away as the rake would allow and training his wand on the spot, he used the end of the rake to snag the sack and whip it away. 

He was met with three sets of snarling teeth and one very large, very unconscious Snuffles. He kept his wand on the dogs and carefully dropped the rake. Great. How could he get past these animals without hurting them? They were obviously protecting the injured animagus and he couldn't knock all three out at once. As soon as he nailed one the other two were bound to spring on him. "Damn," he thought as the snarling continued.

As he watched, Snuffles stirred a bit. That was probably what made the sack twitch. Hopefully that meant the animagus was close to regaining consciousness. With a flick of his wand at Snuffles Severus hissed, "Ennervate." He was rewarded with a more menacing pitch of growling but also with significantly more twitching and movement from Sirius.

"Comeon, Black," Severus breathed, looking over his shoulder toward the door, "Hurry up. The longer this takes the worse our chances." Aside from the flick of the wand and earlier dropping of the rake, Snape had remained still and the three "guard dogs" seemed content to continue the stand off so long as he didn't move any more.

Finally the large black dog pushed itself on its stomach and shook it's head. It was at this moment it seemed to become sensible to what was going on around it. Snuffles looked curiously at his growling friends trying to make out at what they were growling. There seemed to be a man with a bit of light coming from his wand. Damn! A Death Eater? He half walked, half dragged himself over to Blackie trying to get a better look at the man. As soon as he was at Blackie's side the man turned the wand toward himself. SNAPE! 

It took Snuffles a moment to take this in and work out what it meant but soon he was lightly ruffing at the other dogs.

"He won't hurt us. Blackie, this is the other man from my pack. I think he is trying to find me." 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Snuffles said looking at Severus who gave him a desperate look and put a finger to his lips. "We've got to be quiet or the bad men will hear us and come!" Snuffles said urgently.

The other three dogs quieted immediately... just in time to pick up the sounds of a door in the evil place shutting and a shuffling steps making coming rapidly in their direction.

The man and the Snuffles said exactly the same thing at the same time. The other dogs didn't understand the word, but they understood the feeling behind it.

"Damn."


	32. Every Dog Has Its Day

ICLYLM Chapter 32 "Every Dog Has It's Day"  
  


A/N: thanks to faithful reader/reviewers! Ayod botla, Bdwrm, Kazza, Leandra. LoPotter, Raven, Rheanna, Skyfire, and to new readers Elanor and Mike for your kind and encouraging words. I always appreciate reviews so much, now more than ever.

Ayod, this chapter is VERY short... but there's a very nice long one coming... I just had to break this where I broke it!  
  


Not one but two sets of footfalls were approaching the barn. "Damn" Severus whispered. again. Apparently Wormtail wasn't the only one left in the Riddle House with Voldemort. He'd forgotten McNair. Suddenly Snuffles was shoving him toward the pile of burlap sacks. He didn't need to be told twice. He waved his wand at them to levitate a good portion of the pile and dove under letting the sacks settle over him as he arranged himself so that he could see out a small opening. His wand was ready, he just hoped he was.

The dogs ruffed to one another then followed Snuffles away from the corner and the pile of sacks. Would the Death Eaters just see the dogs and dismiss them; or would they feel the need to have a little sport with them as Malfoy had? Severus doubted Black was well enough to even change back into a wizard so that left him to grapple with McNair and Wormtail. Well, as a rule Wormtail wasn't a big problem. McNair, however, had the finely honed fighting instincts of a warrior. Snape could probably stupefy Wormtail before he knew what hit him; but he feared in the seconds it took to do so McNair would take the advantage. But, then, he had the advantage of surprise. They didn't know he was here (though they surely suspected someone was) or where he was. He could probably stupefy Wormtail from his hiding place. If he rolled away from the pile of sacks quickly enough he might be able to face McNair before the man got a bead on him.

There was a creak of hinges and the sudden appearance of wandlight ("good instincts, little brains" Snape thought). The dogs set up an awful racket of noisy barking. Snape tensed. The next few moments would tell the tale.

"Dogs! Ye drug me out here for Dogs!" McNair could be heard growling irritably above the awful yapping.

"I saw a light in here, moving!" came the stubborn voice of Wormtail

"Sure ye did, laddie! The dogs lit themselves a wee candle!"

"McNair, I know what I saw. Dismiss it if you will. You go on back to the Dark Lord and tell him you didn't take it seriously while I have a look about." Wormtail snapped.

"Fine, wee man, ye go first, why don't ye?" McNair sneered.

"Sit, heel!" Wormtail squeaked at the barking dogs. None did any such thing. Snape saw the glint of the silver hand rising in the air before he heard an "oof!" from what sounded like Wormtail.

"Dinnae hit 'em ye fool! Ye'll just get yourself bit!" McNair growled.

The light of one of the wands swung sharply and McNair could be heard saying "locomotor Mortis!" A thump followed and Wormtail could be heard saying "Locomotor-" but he was interrupted by an alarming rise in the pitch and viciousness of the dog's noise. They had launched themselves on the dark wizards snapping, biting, and snarling. Wormtail could be heard whimpering his distress while McNair growled as the light from his wand swung about wildly.

Snape stuck his wand through the opening yelling "Stupefy!" and hitting McNair squarely. He then moved it to hit Wormtail who toppled, unconscious onto McNair. What was the phrase he had been thinking of earlier? "That was easy, too easy." He crawled out from under the sacks and quickly scooped up both wands... still lit. He used them to check the dark wizards. Out cold. He then turned to Ripper who was growling on the floor unable to move his locked legs. "Finite Incantatum" Snape said, releasing him. Ripper jumped to his feet and scrambled over to the fallen wizards, biting each of them in turn. 

Snape watched him, then crouched down next to Snuffles, "Can you transform, Snuffles?" The dog swung it's head from side to side. "Ah, then you obviously can't apparate." Snape said, thinking aloud. He looked at the unconscious wizards and bit his lip in indecision. McNair he didn't care about. But Wormtail... a.k.a. Peter Pettigrew... Produciing him for the Ministry of Magic would clear Sirius Black's name. There was little love lost between Snape and Black but events of the past year or so had allowed an understanding to be forged between them. That, and people Snape did love cared about the animagus' fate. All this aside, Severus had no love of injustice. He would be loath to leave Wormtail behind regardless of his feelings toward Black. 

Snuffles nudged him impatiently. "Wait a moment, Padfoot," Severus said, deliberately using Sirius' nickname to soothe the animal. Still, Sirius was right. They'd kicked up quite a ruckus and there was no telling who else was in the house to be sent up to investigate. He needed to get Snuffles far enough away to apparate them both. 

"Blast it!" Severus thought rising to his feet and feeling his muscles and nerves shake. He would be lucky to muster enough energy to get Black and himself back and he would have to bond Black to him to apparate them both. He couldn't levitate and apparate Wormtail, too. It was far too risky. Snape thought of a string of rare and foul expletives in Gobbledegook, the Goblin language. He would have to leave Wormtail.

Still, he might have just enough energy... he pointed his wand at Wormtail and McNair in turn muttering "Petrificus Totalis Maximus" With another wave of his wand the pile of sacks moved sideways. Another flick and swift kick and the dark wizards were propelled into the corner. Finally Snape dropped the sacks atop them. He was going to snap both wands and toss them away when he thought the better of it and pocketed them.

"Snuffles, follow me, we've got to hurry, I've wasted too much time already."

The dog looked at him and back toward his three friends. Snape understood immediately. How did you thank creatures who had helped you out of nothing save goodness? He moved toward the three dogs and scratched them behind the ears in turn as Snuffles nuzzled each one quickly. With a few light "ruffs" Snuffles then turned and moved to Severus' side. 

Severus and Snuffles moved quickly and quietly out of the barn moving to each of the landmarks Severus had used earlier. With each passing moment Snape had to resist the urge to hold his breath out of fear someone would soon follow. Finally they gained the shelter of the woods and Severus leaned heavily against the tree he had earlier. How long ago, now? He looked at his watch. It was well after eleven. Voldemort would be looking for him soon, it was time to leave the evil wizard behind.

It seemed he wasn't the only one with that idea. As he looked a last time toward the Riddle House, he saw three dogs emerge from the small barn and go streaking joyfully across the field and away from that evil place. Severus bound Snuffles to him and did the same.


	33. Inch by Inch

ICLYLM Chapter 33 "Inch by Inch"  
  
A/N: Troy is back! Now, whatever happened to Debbi and Caius Julius? Thanks all the reviews for 32 were a real boost during a difficult time.

  
  


It was with tremendous relief Severus Snape saw the Forbidden Forest appear around him. He unbound the dog, Snuffles, from him and took a moment to catch his breath. His energy was rapidly dwindling and they were not out of the woods yet (as it were). They needed to get across the boundaries to Hogwarts as quickly as they could manage. Severus looked down at the dog, who oozed weariness and pain. That wasn't going to be very fast. They'd better move.

"Snuffles, we've got to get onto Hogwarts' grounds as soon as we can." He said to the dog. Snuffles looked up at him balefully and dropped down to his belly.

"No, No, Snuffles, you can't... they could come after us at any moment! Padfoot! You must get up." 

The dog sighed and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. "Good boy!" Snape praised as the dog took a very shaky step in the right direction. Hell, this was going to take forever! He tried to muster a last little bit of energy and aimed a levitation spell at the animagus. He managed to raise the dog a pitiful few inches off the ground. Still, it was good enough. He moved beside Snuffles and began to make his way toward the edge of Hogwarts, levitating the animagus with him.

The progess was painfully slow in more ways than one, but it was progress. Severus just had to keep moving, keep moving...

When at last they had crossed over the boundary to Hogwarts, Snape looked, again, at his watch. Twelve Thirty. It was close enough. He could still go back with the story he and Dumbledore had concocted. He could still maintain his cover. It wasn't too late, was it?

Yet he kept moving methodically forward, levitating the dog at his side. Some time later (he wasn't consulting his watch and had no real sense of how long) he felt the dark mark burn. Voldemort was calling him. Voldemort was angry. Voldemort would not give up. The pain would grow progressively worse until he either returned to the Dark Lord or went insane. Only Dumbledore knew how to negate the burning of the Dark Mark and the castle was still quite some distance away. He really should return. That was the most sensible thing. He could keep spying for Albus and The Mark... it would stop burning. 

But, still, his steps continued to stubbornly carry him forward toward the castle. The part of him browbeaten into submission as a child kept trying to convince him to go back. The hope that he had so painfully gained over these last years kept pulling him forward. If he could just make it to the castle he could stop. He could stop being a spy, stop being a Death Eater, stop being more of a bastard than he really was. 

A surge of pain in his arm brought him to his knees and he tore at his arm in agony. Snuffles remained slightly levitated beside him, head lolling back and forth as he rose and fell an inch or so every few moments. The dog looked unconscious. He couldn't just leave Sirius in the forest, he'd be breakfast for some beast or other. He had to keep going, keep moving toward the castle... toward hope. Gritting his teeth he got up and began to move painfully toward the castle once again. A few feet down the path his knees buckled with a surge of pain in his arm and he went down again, hard.

He stayed down, panting for several moments, trying to think. It was no good. He'd never make it at this rate, he'd have to go back. No! He was too close, too close. There was Sirius to protect as well. If he had to crawl he would keep moving forward. He would not go back...  
  


As morning wore on with no news from Severus Phoebe shut down. She had clearly decided Severus was not coming back and she closed in on herself refusing to respond to either healer.

"How much danger do you think she's in?" Jeffrey asked his father softly.

James Barnes shook his head, "The mind is a powerful thing, Jeff, there's really no way to tell."

Still, neither healer was inclined to give up without a fight. When neither could reach the witch through the healing bond, James looked at his son with a glint of steel in his eye. 

"It's time for dirty pool, isn't it, Dad?" Jeffrey asked.

"I wouldn't call it that, necessarily. I prefer to think of it as using all the means at our disposal," the older healer said moving to his satchel. "She can't will herself to die if she's unconscious, and that may buy us some time."

"But can't she? Haven't you seen people in a coma give up?"

"It's rare, very rare," James said, his eye on a syringe as he drew a dose of potion up into it. "She may be able to, but this will at least slow her down." The elder healer moved to Phoebe's side.

"Phoebe, I need to give you a shot. Just a pinch and a prick" He found muscle in the arm and delivered the potion. Phoebe began to blink owlishly at once as James moved to dispose of the needle in the little sharps box in his bag.

"Once she's under one of us can try a healing bond again. She ought to be less resistant."

"Which one of us should do it? You're more experienced." 

"Yes, Jeff, but you've got an emotional connection to her that I don't. And you care very much about Severus... that's an important bond that you also share. I think it should be you."

Jeffrey sighed and nodded.

"Meanwhile," James said ringing a bell, "We should send word to the headmaster to have a through search made of the forest and grounds just in case Severus is back but hurt." 

A house elf with floppy bat-like ears appeared with a crack and James made his request.

"Professor Lupin is already taking searches in the woods, Doctor sir. But he must stop soon, sir," the house elf squeaked in reply.

"Why, Dobby?"

"The Headmaster is having his memorial for the poor professor who died, sir." Dobby said with a knowing wink, "All of the professors and many of the students must be there, Doctor James, sir, so that the evil wizards are sure she is dead, sir. Professor Lupin will search again afterward, Doctor James, Dobby will help him sir, if it pleases you, sir. Dobby misses Professor Snape." the elf finished sadly. 

James Barnes placed a gentle hand on the House Elf's head. "It would please me very much, Dobby," He said gently, "Dobby or Professor Lupin must send word IMMEDIATELY if they find anything at all. This is very important Dobby."

"Dobby will make sure Doctor James and Doctor Jeffrey hear news 'immediately'." Dobby said with slightly improved spirits, then he disappeared with another loud crack.

"This is just a little too ironic for my taste, Dad," Jeffrey said.

"What is?"

"They're having a memorial service for our patient at the same time we are trying to save her life. It doesn't feel like a very good sign."

"I don't believe in signs, Jeffrey." James Barnes said matter-of-factly. "Neither should you."


	34. Walking Dreams

ICLYLM chapter 34: Walking Dreams  
  
A/N: Y'all reader/reviewers are making my day. Thanks. Elanor: I don't have much control over the font in ff.net. When I convert a Wordperfect document to HTML I get what you see here (but I lose italics, bold, and underline, and get two hard spaces for every one... you learn how to compose for Html conversion in WP) When I convert from Microsoft word to a txt document I get the big letters. My guess is that you'll have to experiment with the options your word processing program offers that are accepted by ff.net. Fortunately, if it looks horrible you can always replace it. Good luck!

  
  


Dumbledore had kept the service brief (it was over before 9:30) and had spread the ashes from a handsome wooden box onto the lake so that no one could sneak a sample away for their Death Eater parents to test. All of the professors, including Snape's substitute, had attended. So, also, had nearly all of Taylor's students, some of their friends, and several curious students who had little connection to Professor Taylor at all. If they had been hoping for an explanation for the professor's death beyond "a tragic and unexpected health crisis" they were disappointed. 

Dumbledore gazed out over the lake until the last of the ashes disappeared. He then turned and headed slowly and somberly for the castle, wooden box in hand. McGonagall and Flitwick walked on either side of him as the students and assorted professors scattered. Lupin made directly for the forest.

He nearly tripped over an energetic Dobby who was waiting behind a bush with several house elves from the kitchen. "Doctor James says Dobby help Professor Lupin:" the elf squeaked. "Other elves know woods very well, professor, they help too" Dobby announced, nodding. "Doctor says if Dobby or Professor finds anything at all he must know IMMEDIATELY. Doctor says this is most important."

"Thank you, Dobby. Hagrid will join us in a moment and we'll get back to work."  
  


Jeffrey Barnes had settled himself in a sitting position on top of the extra bed and his father had levitated the unconscious Phoebe onto his lap. More physical contact made a better bond and this was an important one, to say the least. Jeffrey shifted a bit, laid his hands on Phoebe's shoulder and insinuated himself into his patient.

She wasn't the first unconscious person with whom he'd bonded as a healer. What he saw was not what he expected, however. The first thing he encountered was the sensation of thick, swirling fog... that must be the injection, he reasoned as he pushed himself in deeper. After a time he felt himself drop and he suddenly seemed to be in a very convoluted corridor filled with doors. "A classic dream image" he said to himself. He expected to move past it, but remained in the corridor.

Finally, he decided to try walking forward. Strangely enough, He was able to. He hadn't expected things to be physically realistic in someone else's psyche. He reached out a hand toward the first door to which he came and felt it close around the cold brass knob. This was odd, very odd, indeed. This was more like walking through someone's dream world than scanning through a healing bond.

He pulled on the doorknob and peered inside. The room was a jumble of mismatched objects, precariously piled and stacked together. He shut the door and moved on to the next. The door handle was cut glass and even colder than the brass one. He opened this door and felt an uncomfortable chill. He was looking at a household tableau... probably from Phoebe's childhood. It seemed ordinary enough but a sinister feeling emanated from the figures in it. Phoebe was not there. He shut the door rather hard and moved away. He moved to a door with an iron sliding bolt. He slammed it shut very quickly after opening it. Malfoy, Voldemort, and another man he didn't know were in there, but Phoebe was not.

Jeffrey couldn't tell if he was in Phoebe's dream world or if he'd entered some sort of manifestation of her emotions. He did have the very strong feeling, however, that he would find Phoebe behind one of these doors. He knew that's what he needed to do. He lost count of the number of doors he opened in the strange corridor but, at long last, he opened a very heavy wooden door and found himself facing Phoebe.

She was sitting in an empty, gray room. Her arms were crossed and she was gazing at Jeffrey with a very angry look.

"Can't you just leave me alone, Jeffrey?"

"I'm trying to help you, Phoebe," Jeffrey countered earnestly.

"I didn't ask for your help" she snapped.

"No, you didn't. But I'm here anyway," Jeffrey said as warmly as possible.

"Again, I didn't ask for your help. I doubt I'm interested in the help you're inclined to give."

"What kind of help are you interested in?" Jeffrey asked.

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "The kind that stops my heart."

Jeffrey paused a moment, then asked, carefully, "which one?"

Phoebe narrowed her eyes and him and said, "both."

"I don' t think that's the best solution," Jeffrey said, "I know things look bad now-"

Phoebe cut him off, "Yes, you do, Jeffrey! I heard you opening and shutting the doors out there, you know exactly how bad things look, how bad they ARE."

"Yes, there's so much pain. But, Phoebe I know there's good out there, too-"

"Oh, really? How many doors did you open?"

"A lot. I lost count." Jeffrey said, nervous.

"I did, too. But I kept track up until twenty-six. Did you find anything good behind any of those doors?"

Jeffrey shifted trying to think how to NOT answer. Finally, he just told the truth. "No, I didn't. But," he added with a sudden inspiration, "How do we know this corridor is all there is? Maybe this is just the one with the crap and there's another one somewhere. There has to be, Phoebe, because I didn't see Severus behind any of those doors."

Phoebe winced at the mention of Severus' name but then Jeffrey sensed that a barrier had somehow fallen. He waited. 

"He's probably there, Jeffrey," Phoebe said in a voice now devoid of hostility but filled with an unspeakable weariness, "You just didn't look in enough doors." 

"If I did, what would I see?" Jeffrey asked.

"I don't know," came the soft reply, "I'm afraid to think."

"Phoebe some of it would be good, I know it. You love this man. He loves you. That's a good thing, you know."

"I know," she said in the same small voice, "but- but.."

"But, what?" Jeffrey asked carefully

"But I think he's dead," she eked out. "That's what I'm afraid is behind his door."

Phoebe was looking past him and Jeffrey turned... the wall and door behind him had become less substantial, less solid. He could see back into the corridor and he now noticed a door he had not seen earlier. He couldn't believe he had missed it. It was plain but looked strong and true. It radiated something that said "Severus" even to him. He turned back to Phoebe.

"You haven't looked behind his door?" he asked

"I can't."

"Because?"

"Because I know what I'll find there! Jeffrey he's gone. We both know it. If he's not back by now he's gone and it's my fault. How can I look at him... dead? I just want it to be over before I have to see that!"

"But we don't know that he's dead!" Jeffrey insisted, "Phoebe I've known him for a long time and he's come out of many a hopeless and dangerous situation!"

Phoebe held his gaze for a moment and Jeffrey thought he had finally gotten through. But then she dropped her head and began shaking it back and forth and rocking on her chair. He knew that, even here, she was closing in on herself.

"Phoebe!" Jeffrey said sharply. He got no response. "Phoebe, listen to me, look at me, Dammit!" Nothing. He strode forward and put his hands on her shoulders. "Phoebe!" he said sharply but she did not react in the slightest. She couldn't hear him.  
  


James Barnes had laid a hand lightly on both his son and the patient. He did not intend to bond with either of them, but he wanted to keep track of how each of their vital signs were progressing. A short time into the bond he felt his son's heart rate increase. Slowly however, it began to return to normal, then it rose slightly again. At this same time Phoebe's heart rate went up. Ah, the healer reasoned, Jeffrey has made some sort of contact, some progress.

As he watched Phoebe's heart rate and respiration both continued to increase until he was sure the woman's heart was fairly hammering in her chest. James was just considering joining the bond to help calm her heart rate when his son's began to skyrocket again. James closed his eyes and tried, first, to bond with Phoebe. He could not. He tried to restrain his confusion and fear as he tried to bond with his son. He felt himself enter into Jeffrey's systems but this was not like a normal healer's bond. His perception of Jeffrey's physical systems was normal. But his sense of Jeffrey, himself, was missing. He felt it was far away somehow and surrounded by... something to do with Phoebe. Struggling to remain calm, James slowed his son's heart and breathing and diffused some warm, healing energy into his systems before pulling himself out.

James put his head in his hand. He knew of this sort of thing, of course, but it was so rare. But everything he'd felt and seen supported it. Damn Jeffrey's precocious talents! His son had somehow managed to go dreamwalking with his patient. He had put himself in her subconscious mind. Without proper training, Jeffrey might not know how to get back out. James needed to think hard. There had to be a way to guide his son out.

A rattling sort of breath caught his attention and he looked up at the patient, then quickly laid a hand on her. Her rapid heart rate and respiration were swiftly moving the other way. This was not good, not good at all. 


	35. 'Round in Circles

ICLYLM 35: "'Round in Circles"  
  


Snape was sure he'd lost consciousness, at least briefly, several times. If he wasn't worried about leaving Sirius and himself lying about like a dark creature's breakfast buffet, he would gladly have given in to unconsciousness. The Dark Mark still burned and it had reached a new height of agony. The Dark Lord was very angry. Even at it's worst, the call would cease on its own after a time. But it had been hours. Even off the path in the dark forest Severus could see that morning was wearing on. He'd been at this for hours.

He looked at Sirius. He was awake but his eyes were dull. The dog was clearly injured, he wouldn't be helping himself until he got some medical attention. Severus wasn't much better off, he was still dealing with the after-effects of the Cruciatus, he was completely drained, and the pain from the dark mark... His progress was terribly slow. He estimated it was taking four times as long as it normally would to move through the forest to the castle. Still, they ought to be out of the woods, soon. He had left the path to go "as the crow flies." After all this time they should be emerging soon, shouldn't they?

He realized he had been standing still again. He looked down to see the fingernails of his right hand digging into his left forearm, drawing blood. The pain of the mark was so overwhelming he couldn't even feel that the pain of his nails tearing at his arm, Merlin help him. He dragged himself and Snuffles a foot or so to a large tree and leaned against it. The tree seemed comfortingly familiar, almost welcoming. Then it hit him. He had been here already. He wasn't moving out of the forest, he was moving AROUND in it!

This was too much. Slowly he sank down along the trunk of the tree until he was sitting on the ground with his back against it. He moved Snuffles onto his lap and buried his face in the dog's fur. He had wondered why no one was looking for them by now. They may well have been, he realized, but his path had been so erratic... He should have known better and stayed on the path. With this much pain and fatigue his faculties and senses were sure to be dulled. But the impetus to find a quicker route had grown with each passing moment the Dark Mark burned. 

He'd lost faith now in his own ability to find the way out. Despite the dangers he'd have to take a chance and do what they always told you to do when lost in the woods: stay put. He'd keep his wand out and try to stay awake. And he'd pray that in the light of mid-day the creatures that fancied a snack of human or dog were keeping to themselves or asleep. He pulled his head up and leaned against the tree. The Dark Mark still burned, but pain was his ally now. So long as he could avoid fainting, the pain would keep him awake.  
  


Dobby and the elves fanned out in front of Remus and Hagrid and swiftly disappeared. As Remus watched them go he was surprised at how many there were, and at how quickly they moved. Dobby was determined and the other elves would not be outdone. Why hadn't they thought to use the elves earlier? No matter, they needed to get to the task at hand. Nodding at Hagrid, Remus set off in one direction while the giant went in the other.

Some time later, at opposite parts of the wood, both Remus and Hagrid heard a horrible keening. Both men broke into a run, sprinting toward the sound. They were not alone. There were loud cracks around and then ahead of them as house elves disappeared and re-appeared at the source of the sound. 

Lupin and Hagrid skidded to a stop behind different groups of anxious elves at nearly the same time. Ahead of them Dobby was wringing his hands and keening a few feet away from... the forms of Severus and Snuffles slumped against a tree. "No, No! Professor Snape cannot be dying!" the Elf wailed. Adrenaline still flowing freely, Remus leapt over the loose knot of elves in front of him and streaked past Dobby to the Potions Master and Snuffles. Hagrid's heavy footfalls shook the ground as he approached, too. Both figures were rather still and Snape was alarmingly pale. Remus extended a shaking hand toward the pulse point on Severus' neck. As he did so, Hagrid spoke, "Is he dead?" he asked hoarsely.

"Not yet." came the reply... not from Lupin, but from Snape himself. His eyes were still closed, his face drawn tight, but it was clearly the Potions Master who had spoken. "Snuffles isn't either but if that isn't Hagrid come to help me, Dobby's wailing might finish me off."

"Thank all the gods," Remus breathed as a greenish blur shot past him and Dobby latched onto Severus' neck. Severus raised a very shaky hand to pat the elf's back, whispering, "This house elf has grown entirely too fond of me, I think." Then Hagrid was lifting Snuffles from his lap and Remus was trying to help him stand, but the clinging house elf was making it difficult.

"Dobby, if you could let go, I could help Professor Snape a bit better," he said as mildly as he could. Dobby let go and then his rather large round eyes got (if it were possible) even larger and rounder.

"Doctor James!" the elf exclaimed and he disappeared with a loud crack. Remus conjured two stretchers. Hagrid placed Snuffles on one while he helped Snape (with a lot of surreptitious wand work) get into the other. They found themselves surrounded by energetic house elves rocketing backward and forward as they carefully guided the two stretchers toward the edge of the forest. 

"Oh," Snape said, "it was this way." Then he let himself pass out.

As the trees thinned and the strange party approached the edge of the forest Lupin caught sight of a figure fairly sprinting across the field from the castle. With a touch of surprise he realized the figure had long hair and an equally long beard. Who would have thought the elder wizard capable of such speed?

Speedy or not, Dumbledore was winded when they met a few yards out of the forest. His face was quite intense as he put a hand on both the animagus and the professor. His keen eyes caught a shining dampness on the sleeve of one of Snape's robes. The Headmaster quickly moved the sleeve and allowed himself a small gasp at what he saw. The arm was torn up, and slick with blood. But, by far, the most disturbing was the burning Dark Mark. It was angrier than Dumbledore had ever seen it and literally smouldering. 

"Oh, my poor child," he whispered softly as he laid his hand over the mark and said the negating spell with as much force as he could muster. As he pulled his hand, now marked with Severus' blood, away he could see the Dark Mark stubbornly fading and some of the hard lines on Snape's face relaxing as well. 

The party, now with Dumbledore in the lead, was once again moving toward the castle when a crack announced Dobby's return. The elf took one look at the headmaster and latched onto his robes screeching frantically.

"Doctor James says Professor must come to him now, must hurry!"

"Dobby" the Headmaster soothed, "we are going straight to Doctor James, do not worry."

"No, you musn't walk you must go faster, faster! Doctor James is very frightened! Doctor James says if you do not hurry it will be too late!"

James Barnes frightened? The Healer rarely let his emotions show when he was acting in his capacity as a physician. 

"Who does he want, Dobby?" the Headmaster asked sharply.

"You, sir and Professor Snape, Sir! Right away, please, sir!" Dobby said, tears beginning to slide out of his eyes. 

Dumbledore took out his wand and aimed it at the castle. It seemed to Remus that something indefinable shifted a second later. Without a word, Dumbledore laid a hand on Severus, swung his wand, and the two wizards disappeared. Dobby followed with a loud crack.

"Blimey," Hagrid breathed, "Summat bad is goin' on. Let's move, Remus." 

Lupin nodded and picked up his pace.


	36. When you walk through the storm...

ICLYLM 36 "When you walk through the storm..."

A/N: many thanks to "the faithful" and to Raven for her support and for letting the Doctors Barnes come out and play in my story.  
  


James Barnes was quite agitated when Dumbledore and Snape apparated in the third floor room. Dumbledore turned immediately and raised his wand, re-applying the ward charm he'd moved to be able to apparate into this part of the castle. Even that delay had Barnes fairly hopping with impatience.

"James! What is it?" Dumbledore said, alarmed, as he moved aside so the elder healer could scan Severus. James said nothing as he focused on the scan. He then moved swiftly to his satchel and returned with two syringes. His focus on Severus was absolute until he'd finished administering the second injection. "Just extreme exhaustion, thank the elements," he said softly. Then he turned his attention back to the Headmaster.

"Somehow Jeffrey wound up dreamwalking in Phoebe's subconscious, but he's not been trained and he doesn't know how to get out. Her vitals are dropping steadily, Albus. She's dying and I don't know what will happen if Jeffrey's still in there when she does."

Dumbledore was taken aback. Jeffrey was dreamwalking? It was a rare gift to be sure, and a dangerous one to use. It was bad enough that Jeffrey was dreamwalking with no idea of how to get back out. But to also be doing so in someone who might be dying... He didn't relish whatever James had in mind, it was likely to be dangerous. Still, there was no question he would help.

"What do you want me to do?" 

The healer regarded Dumbledore and the unconscious Snape. This wasn't ideal but it was his best shot.

"I need to enter a bond with Severus and then I need you to facilitate a bond between Jeffrey and myself."

"Why Severus?"

"I think he can keep her alive, I'm hoping that through the bridge he might make his presence known to Phoebe. That might be all she needs. Listen, there's no time to explain," the Healer said shortly sitting next to the still forms of his son and Phoebe on the bed and levitating Snape to his lap. "Are you ready?" he asked looking to Dumbledore.

"Of course." the older wizard said firmly, moving toward them with steely resolve. Bridging two bonds was playing with fire as far as most wizards and witches were concerned. The potential damage to the psyche of any of the persons involved was serious if it wasn't done properly. Albus trusted James, however. When he said it was the only option, he believed him. He also knew that, much though James loved his son, if the risk were too great he would never knowingly put two additional persons in danger. Not knowingly.

"Give me a moment to establish the bond then bridge us." James said.

"I shall." Dumbledore replied as James closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around the unconscious Snape. Snapes eyelids fluttered for a moment and then he seemed to relax into the elder healer. 

Wand out, Dumbledore was speaking an incantation and drawing a circle around all four figures on the bed. After a moment he stopped and placed one hand on James' head and another on Jeffrey's. It was like getting a powerful electric jolt, right down to the inability to let go of the current. Albus closed his eyes and focused on the bridging spell and nothing else...  
  
  
  


A moment after Jeffrey realized that the rocking form of Phoebe could no longer hear him, he was stunned to see her disappear entirely. He whirled sharply but there was no sign of her. Where the hell had she gone? He strode toward the door and reached to pull it open. It wouldn't move. 

"What the..."

Jeffrey placed his other hand on it and pushed, hard. Nothing. Blank. Immovable. He put his shoulder into it, then stepped back and gave it a good swift kick with the flat of his foot. Nothing. He stood quite still for a moment breathing slowly in and out. Then he began to move carefully along the walls, examining them for another way out. Nothing. The ceiling, the floor? Nothing. Just a grey blank with a grey metal folding chair in the center. 

He had no idea what he was supposed to do at this point; he just knew he wanted out of this room. 

"Phoebe?" he called out. Nothing.

Louder, then, "Phoebe, where are you?"

"PHOEBE COME BACK! I NEED YOUR HELP!"

Nothing. He looked at the chair and nearly sat in it before thinking the better of it. Well, what did he have to lose at this point? He filled his lungs and lowered himself even as he shouted, again, "PHOEBE!"

The chair shot him out like a cannonball. For a second Jeffrey was sure he'd smash into the wall or the door. Next thing he knew, however, he was slamming into the floor of the corridor in front of the door that belonged to Severus. Phoebe was afraid to open that one. Maybe it needed to be opened, though, to bring her back (and get him out of this waking nightmare). Jeffrey pushed to his feet and reached for the handle. It was comfortable in his grip and the door swung easily toward him.

The room before him had no people in it, but it was by no means empty. The healer stepped into it in wonder. The place was at once familiar and yet strange to him. This was clearly Severus' room. He could see the patient he had cared for in much of it. There was also something in it that was not Severus and, while not as familiar, still not unknown. This must be Phoebe. He liked this room, it was comfortable and warm. He felt he wouldn't mind staying here for a long while. Then he shook himself. He needed to find Phoebe.

He put his hand on the door handle and the everything seemed to jump, to shift sideways, then slam back somehow. He heard the sound of something falling behind him and turned to see

"Severus? Severus! Heaven and Earth, is it really you or are you just a part of this?"

Snape blinked hard once or twice then focused on the healer.

"Jeffrey?" he asked, "Where in the name of... where are we? I was in a healing bond with your Father and then... Well, now I'm here."

"Severus I'm not entirely sure of what has happened but nearly as I can figure..."

Jeffrey filled and increasingly alarmed Severus in on what he had experienced and what he suspected. 

"And she just... vanished?" Snape finally asked.

"Yes."

"What do you think that means?"

"I don't know. I rather suspect her life force is too weak to sustain a presence here or that one of the other rooms here has pulled her away."

"Well, what do we do, then?"

"Severus, if she's dying it's only because she's willing it to happen and that's because she thinks you're dead."

A look of horror passed over Snape's face as he muttered, "Damnable, foolish..." the words, however, seemed to become choked and he stopped.

"Severus, now that you're here all we need to do is find her and call her back."

"How do we manage that? Yell?"

A look of complete uncertainty crossed Jeffrey's face, "I don't know. Things here have been pretty straightforward so I guess you should start yelling and the both of use should start slamming a few doors. Just stay away from the one with the iron slide-bolt, okay?"

Snape nodded and followed Jeffrey out into the corridor. His eyes widened for a moment but a look of resolve fitted itself over his features and he began to call Phoebe's name and reach for door handles.

They spent quite a long time with Snape calling and both men opening and shutting doors, looking for Phoebe. Finally Snape's voice grew hoarse.

"PHOEBE, PLEASE, COME BACK! DON'T GO NOW!" he cried with a strangled yell before leaning heavily against the wall next to Jeffrey. His eyes had a desperate haunted look that Jeffrey did not like one whit.

"Now what do we do? We've tried every door except the one you said not to." Snape said, his voice raspy and raw.

Jeffrey looked at the iron slide bolt and bit his lip.

"Why aren't we supposed to go in there?" Snape asked.

"It's not that we aren't supposed to... it's that I've already been and you don't want to go, trust me."

Snape regarded Jeffrey intently for a minute then said, "I see. But it's the only place left, isn't it?"

"Severus, no, you don't want to-" Jeffrey said, sick at heart.

"No, I don't," Snape admitted as he stepped in front of the door and put his hand on the bolt. Then, taking a deep breath, he threw the bolt back and pulled on the door. He stood quite still for a moment and a horrible shudder curled out from the room and shook Jeffrey's body. Then Snape stepped forward. Jeffrey launched himself toward the door and just managed to catch it before it shut.

He looked in, trying to see where Severus was, to find Phoebe. Severus stood, stock still, just inside the door. What moved beyond him defied description. Instead of a scene or a tableau or even people, the room now held a swirling confused dark mass of feeling and thought. Tendrils would fly out of the dark mass every few moments and slam into Jeffrey or Severus. Each time one hit Jeffrey it was like an emotional sucker-punch leaving him nauseous, winded, and weak.

He was about to shout to Severus when the wizard in front of him stilled and suddenly flung himself at the maelstrom. He disappeared in to it. Jeffrey felt the words he was about to shout snatched by the storm ahead of him. He simply stood, mute and powerless.


	37. ...you'll never walk alone

ICLYLM 37 "...you'll never walk alone."  
  
A/N: Thanks so much to everyone... you know who you are. Special thanks to Raven for letting me borrow the Barnes'. There is ONE MORE chapter AFTER this one... a few loose ends to tie up, you know...  
  


Jeffrey stared at the swirling storm before him. What had just happened? What was he to do now? He had no real idea. On the one hand he could leap in after Severus and maybe the two of them could find their way out. On the other hand, Severus' only chance to get out might depend on someone being outside the storm to pull him to safety. 

Paralyzed by indecision, Jeffrey did nothing. For several terrible minutes he watched the swirling mass of pain, guilt, confusion, fear, shame, and a hundred other horrible emotions. Then the whole thing seemed to expand suddenly and contract just as suddenly. It pulled into itself for a moment and then something was flying at Jeffrey like a shot. 

Whatever it was slammed into him and knocked him backward, through the door, and into the opposite wall of the corridor. Jeffrey struggled to see something beyond the stars dancing in his vision as he heard the thud of the door closing. He shook his head and tried to crawl out from under whatever had hit him. It wasn't easy, it was heavy and a tangle of... arms and legs? Jeffrey rubbed his eyes forcefully to clear his vision as he managed to pull clear of 

Severus and Phoebe!

He scrabbled back immediately and put his hand on Phoebe's arm.

"Phoebe! Where have you been?"

The witch scowled and shook her head sharply, "What? Where?" Then her eyes focused on the other figure and widened, " SEVERUS!" 

Snape had been shaking his head and scowling, but at Phoebe's shout he turned sharply and looked at her with the most searching, intense look Jeffrey had seen. 

"You are real." It was a question as much as it was a statement. He put his hands on her shoulders and said it again. "You ARE real."

"Please tell me YOU are," she said, a desperate edge to her voice. 'Please, gods, tell me I'm not in some dream."

Severus put a hand on his chest over his heart as if checking to be certain he was, indeed, not a ghost. He then reached out the same, trembling, hand and feather-light fingers trailed down Phoebe's cheek . "I don't know where we are, but I am real." Severus said putting his hand back over his pounding heart

"I think," Jeffrey said, clearing his voice to draw their attention. Phoebe started and stared. "I think," Jeffrey began again, "That we're in your subconscious."

"Sorry, my subconscious?" Phoebe said her face incredulous. Jeffrey nodded.

"All of us," Phoebe asked, "In my subconscious... my subconscious mind?"

"Yes, it's complicated, but yes."

Phoebe sat, silent for a minute, her face betraying her mind's struggle to take it all in. Jeffrey thought it likely a measure of her trust in him that she did not ask him again. Finally, her features settled into a look of determination. "Okay, how do we get out of here and back to the real world?"

"I don't know. I was kind of hoping that pulling you back would do the trick" Jeffrey said sheepishly. Snape and Taylor gifted him with slight glares. "Hey, I didn't come tripping around in your subconscious on purpose, you know," he said a bit defensively. Phoebe's look softened and she looked apologetic. For his part, Severus was clearly concentrating, calculating.

"Perhaps," Snape said, thoughtfully, if we all return to the room through which I entered?"

"Worth a try," Jeffrey said philosophically as he gamely rose to his feet. He'd actually gotten used to following whichever idea occurred to someone while in this place. Snape and Phoebe looked at one another, then followed suit. They walked into the room and Phoebe's jaw dropped. "Holy Cow, THIS is in my subconscious? I need to figure out how to get back to this room." Severus, for his part, was obviously taking his first good look around. Jeffrey was about to close the door when he glanced back at the other door, the one with the iron sliding bolt.

"Phoebe, do you think you should close the bolt on that one again?" Jeffrey asked pointing across the corridor. 

Phoebe's smile faded. "I don't know," she said uncertainly, hands suddenly twisting, her manner anxious. "Is the door closed?"

"Yes."

She sighed heavily, "Well, then, maybe we should just leave it."

And the room shifted and turned on it's side and bounced as if they were dolls in a box that was being shaken to get them out.  
  


Severus, Jeffrey, and Phoebe all felt themselves slam back into consciousness even as both James and Dumbledore felt themselves thrown back and out of the bond. Dumbledore literally stumbled backward and found himself caught by Hagrid's large hands.

"Ye alrigh' Headmaster?" the giant asked, concerned.

"Yes, Hagrid, thank you," Dumbledore said, turning to see who else had joined them in the room. Lupin sat, rather wide-eyed on the bed one hand on the dog lying, panting, beside him. Dobby was clinging to a handful of Hagrid's trouser leg. Otherwise, it was just the four people on the bed. Four rather groggy people. Well, three groggy one grumpy.

James Barnes was scowling as Snape moved off his lap to sit on the end of the bed, pulling Phoebe over to join him, clinging to her like a child's bear. Jeffrey was holding his head and muttering. The scowl left James' face as he looked at his son. As his gaze traveled to Severus, Phoebe, and then Snuffles a look of complete indecision flitted across it for the briefest of moments. Then the older healer was laying hands first on his son, then Phoebe, then Severus. Then he was moving to the Dog and back to his son. He pulled Jeffrey onto his lap and pulsed him with healing energy to immediate good effect.

When he was through his face relaxed and he growled playfully at his son, "Gerroff, kid, I need a hand here." Jeffrey looked at his father and then grinned. "Jeffrey, I'll work with the animagus, you tend to those two." Jeffrey moved to comply. Just as he stood up, he found himself pulled back by his father into a rough embrace. "Jeff, my old father's heart can't take this. Stop putting your life in danger, will you?" James said in a soft voice. There was a teasing edge to James' words, but Jeffrey heard the emotion behind it and gripped his father harder for a moment before stepping away to tend his patients. Both patients were too disoriented to notice that Jeffrey's eyes were a bit brighter than usual.  
  
In the end a third bed was added to the clandestine third-floor ward for Sirius, who recovered rather quickly under the Healers' care. In fact, on his second morning he insisted upon transforming back into Snuffles and going to Remus' rooms. He was heard muttering something about "not needing nausea on top of everything else" before he transformed. At this comment, Remus just smiled indulgently at Severus and Phoebe and led Snuffles out of the room.

Jeffrey, also smiling indulgently, excused himself saying something vague about lunch and the Great Hall.

Severus was shaking his head as the unicorn statue slid slowly back into place. "This is getting embarrassing," he growled from his bed, "what happens when we rejoin the rest of the school?"

Phoebe had been smiling at him, but at his words her smile faded and disappeared. Her face clouded as she looked at her hands. Severus had been so happy. Finally free from his duties as a spy, on the mend... she hadn't had the heart to tell him. Neither, it seemed, had anyone else.

She glanced up to see him fixing her with a penetrating stare. "What's wrong?" he asked, a bit more sharply than he had intended. 

Phoebe took a deep breath and dove in, "Severus, haven't you wondered how Dumbledore took care of everything? Everything with Voldemort?" 

Severus' expression darkened, but he said nothing. Let it come... let all of it come and he would deal with it.

"Severus," she said haltingly, " I can't go back down to the school. Dumbledore staged my death."

"But I never told Voldemort-"

"We know that now, but he didn't while we were still waiting. He had a memorial service, spread some ashes. Half the school was there. Besides, even if he hadn't... I can't exactly go back to my normal life, can I? I'd be a wanted woman. Voldemort would go to great lengths to get me and that would put everyone around me in danger. I can't do that."

"Well, no, of course not," Snape whispered He knew she was right. Even if she stayed at the school Death Eater parents of students would hear of it soon enough. Still...

"We could protect you here. I'll be here. You know Voldemort will be itching to get his hands on me, too."

"Oh, Severus, I am not as powerful a witch as you are a wizard. With the wards and guards here you can protect yourself and they know it. Trying to get at you would be too risky. I, on the other hand, wouldn't be nearly as difficult. You and Albus can't protect me at all times, and you'd need to. What Voldemort thinks I denied him... he's not likely to get over that easily. 

"Besides," she continued, "All gods forbid it, but if you were ever taken by Death Eaters you still have a slim chance of convincing them you're still loyal. At this point all you did is fail to return to report to Voldemort. That's explained easily enough by your physical condition. But whatever slim hope you might have would be destroyed if I stayed here openly. They would know for certain you were a double agent."

Severus pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead, scowling. There had to be a hole in her argument but it wasn't coming to him.

Phoebe winced at the expression on Severus' face, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling he knees up to hide her head. "I'm so sorry," came her muffled voice.

Severus said nothing. He couldn't think of anything to say. After all this, after everything... still? They still couldn't... couldn't have what everyone else expected in their lives? Took for granted? Why had he dared want this?

"When?" he started, "When will you?"

Phoebe turned her head to look at Severus. "I don't know. Do you think Dumbledore would let me hide in these rooms forever?"

Severus' expression softened and he extended his arm toward Phoebe, offering his hand. She looked at it for a moment, then slipped out of bed and took his hand. He pulled her to him and nestled her against him under the covers with a sigh. After a moment he spoke,

"Somehow I suspect Albus would think staying in these rooms for the rest of your life might not be good for you. He's probably right."

"I could get Snuffles to teach me to become an animagus," she suggested weakly.

Severus snorted, "Not Snuffles. McGonagall perhaps, but not Snuffles."

"Why?"

"Trust me, it would be safer," Severus said wryly

"She doesn't seem like a real rule-breaker, though."

"No, but she's slowly accepting the fact that there are more unregistered animagi than registered," he countered with a ghost of a smile. Poor Minerva, Phoebe was right, she wasn't much of a rule breaker. He understood how hard this must be for her, yet at the same time it amused him. 

Phoebe was clearly surprised, "There are?" 

"Well, Rita Skeeter..."

"That vile reporter?!"

"Shes a bug. Fitting, don't you think? Then there's Snuffles, of course. There was Potter's father, he was a stag. And... well there are others..."

"Others" like Wormtail. The thought of him brought them back to the topic they had been avoiding. They both clung to each other just a bit more tightly and let the silence stretch out for a time, saying nothing.

"Do you think Albus would let me stay here some of the time?" she finally asked softly.

"I'll make his life hell if he doesn't," Severus growled.

"So I could, maybe, pop up to some spot in the middle of nowhere in Norway to look at runes for a couple of weeks and then come back here?"

"Sounds reasonable."

"And there's no saying how long it will take to convalesce..." Phoebe said, scheming.

"Indeed," Snape conceded, "Fortunately, they've engaged a substitute for my classes for the remainder of the term. I expect it will take me at least that long to get back on my feet, as it were."

Phoebe nestled more snugly to Severus, "It doesn't sound like a bad life for a dead woman. But what about you?"

"Phoebe it's more of a life than I've allowed myself yet. It's not perfect, but... I'll take it."

"Severus, I'm so sorry... for everything. This mess, everything."

"It's not your fault men are evil," Severus said echoing words said to her before. "It's not your fault that I'm stubborn, either." 

Phoebe snorted, "You're not alone."

There was another silence... then:

"No," Severus said warmly, "I'm not alone, am I?" He drew her closer to him and rested his cheek on her hair as she listened to the whoosh of his breath and the steady beat of his heart.  
  


ONE MORE TO GO... 


	38. of golden sands and crystal brooks

ICLYLM chapter 39: "Of golden sands and crystal brooks..."  
  
A/N: The final chapter is dedicated to Raven (who let me borrow the Barneses) and repeat reviewers... I looked forward to seeing your reviews after each new chapter. It was like hearing from old friends: Arcane (read it in one go and reviewed every chapter),Allosia, Anla'shov, Ayod Botla, bdwrm, Caius Julius, Debbi, Elanor, Kazza, Leandra, loPotter, Mop Head (and her Daemon), Princess Mordor, Rockchick, Skyfire, Troy  
  


Severus and Phoebe both recovered remarkably quickly after "Snuffles" left. Despite this, both insisted (with sly smiles) it would likely take the rest of the term for them to recover completely. After about a week, Dumbledore had their beds moved to two smaller rooms adjoining the one they had been in, which was likely intended as the main sitting room. He furnished the whole suite fairly modestly but rather comfortably. Severus kept Dobby busy smuggling books up from his office and rooms below. 

Phoebe's office and rooms had been packed up and "stored" in the event a next of kin could be found. Actually, they had been moved to the smallest room of the suite (rather more like an over-large broom cupboard) When she was feeling better she could go through them and decide what she might keep. 

With a rather broad wink Jeffrey Barnes promised to continue to describe their health as "precarious." Still, being in different rooms had both Severus and Phoebe on their feet rather sooner than intended.   
  


On their first night in "private" rooms Severus woke some time during the "wee small hours" not knowing what had caused him to wake. After a moment or re-orienting himself (Where was he now?) he looked around and saw her.

Phoebe was standing in the doorway with her arms wrapped tightly about herself. As his eyes adjusted, and he saw it was her and not his imagination, he noticed she was biting her lip and there was a hesitant tension in her frame. He pushed himself up and her eyes flew to his face, wide, and a bit frightened. 

"Phoebe," he said softly opening his arms. There was a moment's pause and then she moved to him quickly. He threw the covers aside and Phoebe climbed in, sighing as his arms encircled her. 

"What's wrong?" he murmured

"Bad Dream" she said shortly, and her body shuddered at the memory. Severus began to stroke her back gently, surprised and pleased he knew what to do, afraid to ask the next question.

"What was it about?" he asked gently

Again she shuddered and shook her head, burying it in his chest. Severus shifted and pulled her to him so that she was curled in his lap being held and sheltered in the way he had longed to do for some time.

He laid his cheek on the top of her head and whispered, "Please tell me."

She trembled and drew a shuddering breath. He thought she was going to speak but then she buried her head in his chest again and soon warm tears were soaking through his nightshirt. He rocked and crooned and soothed her, a few tears falling from his own eyes in the process. It broke his heart but he was intensely glad, somehow, that he could be the one to comfort Phoebe. After a time the tears slowed and stopped and Phoebe hunched into herself a bit, her hands moving over one another compulsively. Another ragged breath.

Then, leaning into him but not looking at him she began to speak. 

"I, I was dreaming about that night again" she eked out feeling Severus hand's moving in comforting circles. "I, it, oh gods, it was so awful, Severus. I thought I might die, and I wanted to, I wanted to. I couldn't move, they had Wormtail use magic to bind me."

Severus' jaw worked in anger, no rage, but he concentrated on keeping his grip on Phoebe firm but gentle.

"He watched the whole thing," she whispered, voice filled with disgust and shame. "Malfoy tried so hard to hurt me-" her voice trailed off as tears, again, began to slide from her eyes. But she couldn't stop now. She had to say it, she had to speak and rid herself of this one last toxin poisoning her system. She began again in a tight voice, "he never- finished - inside me and I didn't understand that at first but then," A sob escaped her and Severus began to rock and soothe her again for a few moments.

"Phoebe, it's alright now. I'm here." He whispered, "It's okay, tell me, love... let it out, let it go."

Phoebe's voice was muffled as she continued. She had turned her head into Severus' chest and was now clutching handfuls of his nightshirt and probably some bedclothes as well.

"He was just getting me ready. For that foul.. for, for... him. I can't, I couldn't, I feel so foul, and disgusting." Severus rocked her again.

"I am so sorry, love, so sorry. I won't let them hurt you again. I'm here. I love you."

"Still?" Phoebe asked in a small uncertain voice.

"What?" Severus replied, surprised.

"How can you now that..." her words trailed off and it took her a long time to eke out the rest, "Now you, know... you know how... foul I am?"

"You? Earth and Elements! You are not foul! Those hideous monstrosities masquerading as human creatures are. You have nothing of which to be ashamed. They do!" the words tumbled out with such force behind them that Phoebe flinched without meaning to. Severus gathered her back to him and spoke more softly, "How can I not still love you? You are..." he trailed off as words failed him. Finally, he just said, "You are YOU. You are my love" and kissed her gently as more tears flowed ...hers were of gratitude and relief, his of anger and sorrow.

After a time Phoebe thought she had no tears left in her. With another breath she asked, 

"Will it always feel this awful?"

Severus shifted her slightly and put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up so she could see his face. He looked at her quite intently and finally said, "No. It does get better. Trust me." And Phoebe cried again, recognizing what she saw in his dark eyes and realizing that she shared more than love with this man. She wished with all her heart she did not.

He kissed her softly and gently wiped some tears from her cheeks with his hand. She looked at him with love and he felt her hand brush lightly against the tears on his own face. Eventually They feel asleep clinging to one another.   
  


That was how Jeffrey found them in the morning. Fast asleep clutching one another, faces streaked with the salty trails left from tears. The scene was both sad and sweet. It seemed they might be working through some of their recent experiences together and he was glad. He, himself, hadn't refused his father's offer to sit by his bed and watch over him on his first few nights back at home.

These two had finally discovered what they should have learned as children about people who love one another. They were finding that people ho love you want to help and support you. It was a lesson learned none too soon. The situation was complicated, to be sure, but he now felt they would be alright, come what may. Plus, he had a little good news for them if his suspicions about their hoped-for plans turned out to be correct. He'd found a cleansing and healing potion that might well reverse some of the damage to Phoebe's reproductive system.

He chuckled softly to himself as he realized that those were also his hoped-for plans for them. He really hoped, someday, that Phoebe would come to him because she was pregnant, and happy about it. And Severus? It would definitely be fun to watch him tackle parenthood. He smiled broadly picturing Severus giving children and family all the love he'd never had a child. It was nice picture.

"What are you giggling about?" a sleepy voice asked from the bed. Severus was looking at him with a brow raised. Phoebe was also regarding him, sleepily.

"Oh, I was just imagining the future... it was a nice vision."

"Predicting the future now, are we?" Severus teased, "Expanding the practice?"

"Well, full-service clinic and all that. Checkups, surgery, tarot..."

Phoebe smiled. "Don't forget therapy."

"I think you two look like you're doing okay on your own. This is miles away from where you were."

Just as he said it, Jeffrey realized the phrase "miles away" might have been a poor choice. Both faces clouded over at these words. He opened his mouth to ask the proper questions, "What are you thinking? What are you feeling?" but shut it right away. He knew. They didn't have to tell him. 

"It won't be forever." he said, "and hopefully not for very long each time, anyway."

Phoebe forced a small smile and Severus took a deep breath. Both began to untangle themselves and sit up.

"You're here to do another few scans and dose us again, I suppose?" Severus said heavily, handing Phoebe his dressing gown from the end of the bed.

"Well," Jeffrey allowed, "I do have a potion I need Phoebe to take. I think I'll just leave it though. You can take it and I'll explain it to you another time. As for the scans, another time maybe."

Both patients looked at the healer curiously. His manner was, strange. He seemed to have something up his sleeve.

"You're giving up an opportunity to nose around our innards?" Phoebe asked, incredulous.

"Well," Jeffrey said pulling a bottle out of his satchel and putting on a dressing cabinet, "I've got to catch the Headmaster first thing and give him my estimation of your prognosis, you know. It's important he know that I'm adamant that both of you must stay right here to rest and recover AT LEAST until the term ends." 

Severus tried to give Jeffrey a stern look but the corner of his mouth kept twitching. Phoebe walked over and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Thank You." she said.

"Oh, I wouldn't thank me just yet," Jeffrey said heading for the door as he spoke. Just before moving out of sight he turned with a wicked look on his face. "I don't know WHAT the two of you will be able to think of to DO to fill that time. Do you?" With that he had scurried off, his light chuckles echoing behind him.

Phoebe picked up the potion bottle, uncorked it and took a sniff. "There are no directions so I suppose I just take it straight?"

"I suppose," Severus said carelessly as he fished in the wardrobe for another dressing gown.

Phoebe sighed and tipped the potion back taking the lot in one swallow. Severus' eyebrow rose sharply.

"I had no idea you could toss stuff back with such... uh... skill." He said, teasing.

"A product of my first exile in the Muggle Universities, I'm afraid. The variety of ways I could teach you to consume alcohol would astound you, my dear."

"Well, I suppose we could put that on the list of activities to keep ourselves from getting bored," he said in a deliberately off-hand fashion.

"You don't suppose that's why he beat such a hasty retreat do you?" Phoebe asked.

"It may well have been," Severus laughed. "Come on, let's give Dobby a treat and try out the dining area, shall we?"

The house elf was only too happy to serve them a bountiful formal breakfast. Neither Severus or Phoebe felt like eating much but they tried to taste as many things as they could to please the elf. Afterward both parted to do their morning toilet and soon both were curled up together on the couch, reading. 

Toward the end of the morning Phoebe shut her book and tossed it to the floor. Severus looked up over the top of his book, "All right?" he asked.

"Um, rather I think," Phoebe said squirming around so that she was lying atop him and they were face to face. Severus tossed his own book to the floor. 

"Yes?" he asked.

"You don't suppose that potion Jeffrey left me was an aphrodisiac, do you?" Phoebe asked with a glint in her eye.

"Um, ah, Don't know." Severus managed before Phoebe tipped her head and kissed him.

Severus closed his eyes and returned the kiss savoring both the physical and emotional sensations of the closeness. Things were just beginning to escalate when he suddenly pulled back, horror struck at his own insensitivity.

"Merlin, Ptolmey," he gasped, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't. You..."

Phoebe was confused for a moment when suddenly the pieces dropped together. She reached out a gentle hand and clasped his shoulder.

"I want you to be close to me," she said blushing slightly, "As close as you can be. I want to know ...the joy of having that with someone I love. With you. Can you, will you do that for me?"

"I don't want to hurt you," Severus said, uncertainty colouring his voice.

"You won't." she said and smiled shyly, "Please?"

Phoebe's heart dropped as Severus shifted her, stood, and moved toward the entrance. He paused and fumbled in his robes for a moment before fining his wand and aiming it at the place where the Unicorn sculpture stood guard. Turning back he smiled gently.

"Just a little locking charm," He said sheepishly. "It's one that I'm pretty sure Albus doesn't know." he added with a very sly smile. He put the wand back into his robes and regarded the maddening, wonderful, lovable person in front of him. What was it Albus had said about love? 'It just happens.' It did, indeed.

He extended his arm and held his hand out to her once again. As she rose and took his hand he drew her to him and laid a gentle hand upon her face, moving it to stroke her hair before bending his head to kiss her. When they broke apart he smiled and quoted the verse that had been tickling his mind all morning,

"Come live with me, and be my love, 

And we shall some new pleasures prove

Of golden sands, and crystal brooks..."

He didn't get to the rest.  
  
  
  


Later, as he left the castle Jeffrey Barnes wondered if he ought to have explained the potion and its side effects to Phoebe. Well, it WAS a rare side effect. Besides, it took the potion at least two hours to work, if she even took it that morning - which he doubted she would... Honestly, he was turning into a regular mother hen. What were the chances, after all, that they would do anything before he returned that afternoon? No. The aphrodisia was a rare side effect and he was being a worry-wort. Wasn't he?  
  


FINIS.  
  
  
  


A/N: Okay, so I'm hooked on cliffhangers. I guess we'll all have to wait and see if the stick turns blue, won't we? Even I don't know yet. If it does I promise I'll let you know (that's what sequels and author alerts are for, I suppose.) I have been informed by a reliable source (not me) that Severus wants two children. Silly man, be careful what you wish for.  


I suppose the moral of the final paragraph is that sometimes your inner voice IS trying to tell you something, ...Jeffrey!  


Many, many thanks, again, to all the readers and especially ALL the wonderful reviewers (not just the multiple ones)!   
  
For the literary minded: yes there is a connection between Phoebe's being trapped in that room of her subconscious and Severus going in freeing her and their liberating conversation in this chapter. Same problem, same solution: subconscious and conscious.   
  
Finally, one loose thread remains: Severus had hoped if he made it back to Hogwarts promptly the ministry might be able to dispatch some Aurors to the Riddle estate to "uncover" Wormtail and McNair. By the time everything settled down it was too late. Sorry Sirius, he did the best he could.  
  
Thanks again, -Persona non Grata.

(bumstead@voyager.net)


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